Palgrave's Golden Treasury of Songs and Lyrics ... (Google eBook)

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Macmillan and Company, Limited, 1903 - English poetry
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Page 39 - uuhonour'd dead, Dost in these lines their artless tale relate ; If chance, by lonely contemplation led, 95 Some kindred spirit shall enquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, ' Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn ; 100
Page 23 - CLXXV. When lovely woman stoops ,to folly And finds too late that men betray, What charm can soothe her melancholy, What art can wash her guilt away ? The only art her guilt to cover, 5 To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover And wring his bosom,
Page 124 - While the cock with lively din Scatters the rear of darkness thin . . . Oft listening how the hounds and horn Cheerly rouse the slumbering morn." 20. lowly bed. "This probably refers to the humble couch on which they have spent the night; but it is meant to suggest the grave as well
Page 39 - The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, 70 Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride With incense kindled at the Muse's flame. Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray ; Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife
Page 15 - CLXV. LOSS OF THE ROYAL GEORGE Toll for the Brave ! The brave that are no more ! All sunk beneath the wave Fast by their native shore ! A land-breeze shook the shrouds And she was overset; 10 Down went the Royal George, With all her crew complete. Toll for the brave ! His last sea-fight is fought, 15
Page 16 - His work of glory done. It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak, She ran upon no rock. 20 His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen. When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men. Once dreaded by our
Page 39 - Some kindred spirit shall enquire thy fate, Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, ' Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps the dews away, To meet the sun upon the upland lawn ; 100
Page 43 - How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, 10 As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie ; For dear to me as light and life 15 Was my sweet Highland Mary. Our parting was fu
Page 36 - Thy dewy fingers draw While Spring shall pour his showers, as oft he wont, And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve ! While Summer loves to sport Beneath thy lingering light; While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves ; 45 Or Winter, yelling through the troublous air Affrights thy shrinking train And rudely rends thy robes
Page 42 - 1 will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only Luve ! And fare thee weel awhile ! And I will come again, my Luve, 15 Tho' it were ten thousand mile. HIGHLAND MARY Ye banks and braes and streams around

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