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Almada ancient ANTISTROPHE arms awful bard beauteous Behold bend beneath boast bold bosom bower breast British brow charms cheerful cold crown'd Cumnor dale DAVID HUME dread dreary eyes fair fame fate fell fire flame fled flowers gale genius gentle gleam glide glow green grief grove hallow'd hand head heart Heaven Hengist hill hoary honour horror House of Guise Humphry Clinker knight labours Langholm languid Lisbon Lord Lord Lyttelton Lusiad Mary's tomb Mickle mind Monaeses morn mourn Muse numbers nymphs o'er pale peace poem POET Portugal powre pride Queen quoth rage rapture reign rise rose round sacred scene scorn shade shore sighs smiles Smollett smyle solemn song soon soul spear Spenser strain stream Tago's Tagus tear thee thine thou toils trembling Twas virgin train virtue wave ween wild WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE youth
Seite 85 - THE dews of summer night did fall ; The moon, sweet regent of the sky, Silvered the walls of Cumnor Hall, And many an oak that grew thereby.
Seite 223 - May numerous herds and flocks be seen: And lasses chanting o'er the pail, And shepherds piping in the dale; And ancient faith that knows no guile, And industry embrown'd with toil; And hearts resolved and hands prepared The blessings they enjoy to guard ! MARK AKENSIDE.
Seite 226 - THE TEARS OF SCOTLAND. Mourn, hapless Caledonia, mourn Thy banish'd peace, thy laurels torn ! Thy sons, for valour long renown'd, Lie slaughter'd on their native ground. Thy hospitable roofs no more Invite the stranger to the door; In smoky ruins sunk they lie, The monuments of cruelty.
Seite 87 - Rather ambition's gilded crown Makes thee forget thy humble spouse. "Then, Leicester, why, again I plead (The injured surely may repine) — Why didst thou wed a country maid, When some fair princess might be thine?
Seite 86 - No lark more blithe, no flower more gay; And like the bird that haunts the thorn, So merrily sung the livelong day. " If that my beauty is but small, Among court ladies all despised, Why didst thou rend it from that hall, Where, scornful Earl, it well was prized?
Seite 198 - A very little above its source, on the lake, stands the house of Cameron, belonging to Mr. Smollett, so embosomed in an oak wood, that we did not see it till we were within fifty yards of the door.
Seite 222 - On Leven's banks, while free to rove, And tune the rural pipe to love; I envied not the happiest swain That ever trod th' Arcadian plain. Pure stream! in whose transparent wave My youthful limbs I wont to lave; No torrents stain thy limpid source; No rocks impede thy dimpling course, That sweetly warbles o'er its bed, With white, round, polish'd pebbles spread...
Seite 92 - I'll to the quay And see him come ashore. For there's nae luck about the house, There's nae luck at a', There's little pleasure in the house When our gudeman's awa. And gie to me my bigonet, My bishop's satin gown; For I maun tell the bailie's wife That Colin's come to town. My Turkey slippers maun gae on, My stockings pearly blue; It's a' to pleasure my gudeman, For he's baith leel and true.