Jones's cabinet edition of British poets, Volume 2 (Google eBook)

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printed for Jones & Co., 1831
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Page 35 - An' each for other's weelfare kindly spiers : The social hours, swift-wing'd, unnotic'd fleet ; Each tells the uncos that he sees or hears ; The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years ; Anticipation forward points the view. The mother, wi' her needle an' her sheers, Gars auld claes look amaist as weel's the new; The father mixes a
Page 92 - I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, Naething could resist my Nancy; But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love for ever. Had we never lov'd sae kindly, Had we never lov'd sae blindly, Never met — or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
Page 35 - An' makes him quite forget his labour an' his toil. Belyve the elder bairns come drapping in, At service out, amang the farmers roun', Some ca' the pleugh, some herd, some tentie rin A cannie errand to a neebor town : Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown, In youthfu...
Page 35 - And decks the lily fair in flow'ry pride, Would, in the way His wisdom sees the best, For them and for their little ones provide; But, chiefly, in their hearts with Grace Divine preside.
Page 35 - tis He alone Decidedly can try us, He knows each chord its various tone, Each spring its various bias : Then at the balance let's be mute, We never can adjust it ; What's done we partly may compute, But know not what's resisted.
Page 44 - Till roof and rafters a' did dirl. Coffins stood round, like open presses, That...
Page 35 - Then kneeling down, to Heaven's eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing," That thus they all shall meet in future days, There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise. In such society, yet still more dear; While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Page 56 - YE banks and braes and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie ! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; For there I took the last fareweel O
Page 71 - I hear her in the tunefu' birds, I hear her charm the air : There's not a bonnie flower that springs By fountain, shaw, or green, There's not a bonnie bird that sings But minds me o
Page 25 - twill pass for wit; Care not for feeling — pass your proper jest, And stand a critic, hated yet caress'd. And shall we own such judgment? no— as soon Seek roses in December— ice in June; Hope constancy in wind, or corn in chaff; Believe a woman or an epitaph, Or any other thing that's false, before You trust in critics, who themselves are sore Or yield one single thought to be misled By Jeffrey's heart, or Lambe's Boeotian head.

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