The Union: Or Select Scots and English Poems.. |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 16
Page 18
... fall without the foe , The pious hero vanquish'd Heaven by pray'r ; His faith an army , and his vows a war , Thee too , Ozias , fates indulgent bleft , And thy day fhone , in fairest actions drest ; Till that rafh hand , by fome blind ...
... fall without the foe , The pious hero vanquish'd Heaven by pray'r ; His faith an army , and his vows a war , Thee too , Ozias , fates indulgent bleft , And thy day fhone , in fairest actions drest ; Till that rafh hand , by fome blind ...
Page 20
... falling day . Tho ' nature her inverted course forego , The day forget to reft , the time to flow , Yet fhall ... fall'n Sion , once the fair and great , Sits deep in duft , abandon'd , defolate ; Bleeds her fad heart , and ever ...
... falling day . Tho ' nature her inverted course forego , The day forget to reft , the time to flow , Yet fhall ... fall'n Sion , once the fair and great , Sits deep in duft , abandon'd , defolate ; Bleeds her fad heart , and ever ...
Page 26
... falling oak . From thought to thought in vifion led , He holds high converse with the Dead ; Sages or Poets . See , they rife ! And shadowy skim before his eyes . Hark ! Orpheus ftrikes the lyre again , That foften'd favages to men : Lo ...
... falling oak . From thought to thought in vifion led , He holds high converse with the Dead ; Sages or Poets . See , they rife ! And shadowy skim before his eyes . Hark ! Orpheus ftrikes the lyre again , That foften'd favages to men : Lo ...
Page 32
... falls of water you refide : ' Midst broken rocks , a rugged scene , With green and graffy dales between : ' Midft foreft dark of aged oak , Ne'er echoing with the woodman's stroke ; Where never human art appear'd , Nor ev'n one straw ...
... falls of water you refide : ' Midst broken rocks , a rugged scene , With green and graffy dales between : ' Midft foreft dark of aged oak , Ne'er echoing with the woodman's stroke ; Where never human art appear'd , Nor ev'n one straw ...
Page 34
Thomas Warton. And trembles , left the tottering wall Should on her sleeping infants fall . Now let us louder strike the lyre , For my heart glows with martial fire ; I feel , I feel , with sudden heat , My big tumultuous bofom beat The ...
Thomas Warton. And trembles , left the tottering wall Should on her sleeping infants fall . Now let us louder strike the lyre , For my heart glows with martial fire ; I feel , I feel , with sudden heat , My big tumultuous bofom beat The ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
æther ATHELWOLD beauty beneath beſt blaſts bow'rs breaſt breath Britiſh brow cauſe crown'd ELFRIDA erft ev'ry facred fage fair fame fang fcorn fhade fhall fhine ficht fide filent filver fing firft firſt fleep flow'rs fmiles foft folemn fome fong fons footh forrow foul fprings frae Freedom calls freſh ftill ftrong fuch fwain fweet fwells fword glory Goddeſs green groves Hail hand HARDYKNUTE hear heart heav'n higheſt ISIS king KING OF SCOTS laſt lefs lift'ning lov'd lyre maid Majeſtic moſt Mufe Muſe numbers nymph o'er peace penfive pleaſure poems pow'r praiſe Queen Quhen raiſe reft reign rife ſcene Scotland ſeems ſeen ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhine ſhore ſmile ſpeak ſpread ſtand ſtate ſteps ſtrain ſtream ſweet thee theſe thine thoſe thou thro throne tow'rs vale vermil virtue whofe whoſe winds zour
Popular passages
Page 59 - The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Page 59 - THE CURFEW tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Page 62 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Page 63 - One morn I missed him on the customed hill, Along the heath and near his favourite tree; Another came; nor yet beside the rill, Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he; 'The next with dirges due in sad array Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne. Approach and read (for thou can'st read) the lay, Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn.
Page 59 - Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, , The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
Page 60 - The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Awaits alike th
Page 63 - Here rests his head upon the lap of earth A youth, to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair science frown'd not on his humble birth, And melancholy mark'd him for her own. Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere...
Page 56 - 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. The wretched owner sees afar His all become the prey of war ; Bethinks him of his babes and wife, Then smites his breast, and curses life.
Page 35 - While Spring shall pour his Show'rs, as oft he wont, And bathe thy breathing Tresses, meekest Eve! While Summer loves to sport, Beneath thy ling'ring light: While sallow Autumn fills thy Lap with Leaves, Or Winter yelling thro' the troublous Air, Affrights thy shrinking Train, And rudely rends thy Robes.
Page 25 - O'er all my artless songs preside, My footsteps to thy temple guide, To offer at thy turf-built shrine, In golden cups no costly wine, No murder'd fading of the flock, But flowers and honey from the rock. O nymph with...