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arms auld beauty bells blessing blood breath bright called child church coming dark dear death deep door drink early earth eyes face fair father feeling feet field fire flowers frae girl give green hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour kind laid land light lived lone look meet memory mind morning mother nature never night o'er passed peace poor possess prayer rest rise rose round Sabbath scenes seen shame side sing sketch sleep soft song soon soul sound speak spirit sweet taken tears tell tender thee things thou thought thousand till true truth turn village voice Whan wife wild wing woman young youth
Seite 212 - No farther seek his merits to disclose, Or draw his frailties from their dread abode (There they alike in trembling hope repose), The bosom of his Father and his God.
Seite 199 - Touched by the Midas finger of the state, Bleed gold for ministers to sport away. Drink, and be mad then; 'tis your country bids! Gloriously drunk obey the important call! Her cause demands the assistance of your throats ; — Ye all can swallow, and she asks no more.
Seite 201 - Be hush'd, my dark spirit ! for wisdom condemns When the faint and the feeble deplore ; Be strong as the rock of the ocean that stems A thousand wild waves on the shore...
Seite 198 - Oh ! bloodiest picture in the book of Time Sarmatia fell unwept, without a crime ; Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe, Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe...
Seite 202 - Time but th' impression deeper makes, As streams their channels deeper wear. My Mary, dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest?
Seite 198 - And HOPE, thy sister, ceased with thee to smile, When leagued Oppression poured to Northern wars Her whiskered pandoors and her fierce hussars, Waved her dread standard to the breeze of morn, Pealed her loud drum, and twanged her trumpet horn ; Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van, Presaging wrath to Poland — and to man ! Warsaw's last champion from her height surveyed, Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid, — 0 ! Heaven...
Seite 212 - Icelander and sunburnt Moor, Men of all climes, that never met before, . And of all creeds, the Jew, the Turk, the Christian ; Here the proud prince, and favourite yet prouder, His...
Seite 214 - ... house — it being an almost universal custom in Scotland, at that period, for the father or master, on Sabbath evenings, to gather his children and servants around him, asking alternate questions of each from the first to the last page of the Assembly's Shorter Catechism, and hearing them repeat Psalm and Scripture passages from memory. In no part of Scotland was the Sabbath more strictly observed. It was looked upon not only as a day of rest, but also as a day exclusively devoted to religious...
Seite 198 - ... clothed in purple and fine linen, and fare sumptuously every day, while the laborer is fed with the crumbs which fall from the table of the rich.
Seite 33 - ' Low the bard, and low the song ; Lowly thou, my own dear village ; Lowly those I dwell among. From my lowly home of childhood Low sweet voices fill 'my ears, Till my drooping lids grow heavy With the weight of tender tears. Low in station, low in labour, Low in all that worldlings prize, Till the voice say, " Come up hither,