The Union: Or, Select Scots and English Poems, Volume 1Thomas Warton |
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Page 2
... Whereto , quoth I , fhall I uprise at morrow , For in thy month few birds have I heard fing , They have mare caufe to weep and plain their forrow : Thy air it is not wholsome nor benign , Lord THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE .
... Whereto , quoth I , fhall I uprise at morrow , For in thy month few birds have I heard fing , They have mare caufe to weep and plain their forrow : Thy air it is not wholsome nor benign , Lord THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE .
Page 3
... fing and dance , And how the skies illumined are bright , Enamell'd richly with new azure light . VII . When this was faid , away then went the Queen , And enter'd in a lufty garden gent ; And then methought , full haftily befeen , In ...
... fing and dance , And how the skies illumined are bright , Enamell'd richly with new azure light . VII . When this was faid , away then went the Queen , And enter'd in a lufty garden gent ; And then methought , full haftily befeen , In ...
Page 9
... all were gone away ; Then up I lean'd me , halflings in affray , Call'd to my Mufe , and for my fubject chofe To fing the royal THISTLE and the ROSE . C VERSES ON THE DEATH OF QUEEN CAROLINE . BY MR THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE .
... all were gone away ; Then up I lean'd me , halflings in affray , Call'd to my Mufe , and for my fubject chofe To fing the royal THISTLE and the ROSE . C VERSES ON THE DEATH OF QUEEN CAROLINE . BY MR THE THISTLE AND THE ROSE .
Page 14
... theme , infpiring what he fings ! Hark --- or our ears delude us ---- --from his tongue Sweet flows , or feems to flow , fome heav'nly fong , JESSE . Oh ! could thine art arrest the flitting sound , 14 THE GENEALOGY OF CHRIST .
... theme , infpiring what he fings ! Hark --- or our ears delude us ---- --from his tongue Sweet flows , or feems to flow , fome heav'nly fong , JESSE . Oh ! could thine art arrest the flitting sound , 14 THE GENEALOGY OF CHRIST .
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... fing fo dull and rough , Ye've deaf'd our lugs more than enough , His Majesty has a nice ear , And no more of your ftuff can bear ; Poke up your pipes , be no more seen At court , I warn you as a frien . He fpake , while ROBIN's ...
... fing fo dull and rough , Ye've deaf'd our lugs more than enough , His Majesty has a nice ear , And no more of your ftuff can bear ; Poke up your pipes , be no more seen At court , I warn you as a frien . He fpake , while ROBIN's ...
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beauty beneath blaſt bleffings bluſh bow'rs breaſt breathe brow caufe chearful crown'd erft ev'ning ev'ry facred fage fair fame fang fcene fcorn feems feen fhade fhall fhine fhrill ficht filent filver fimple fing firſt flain fleep flower fmiles foft folemn fome fong fons footh foul frae Freedom calls freſh ftand ftill ftrain fuch fwain fweet fwell fword Goddeſs green Hail hand HARDYKNUTE hear heart Heav'n ISIS king lov'd lufty lyre maid majeſtic mufing muſe Norfe numina nymph o'er peace penfive plain pleaſe pow'r praiſe prince Queen Quhen rage reaſon reft reign reſt rife ſcene Scotland ſhade ſhall ſhe ſkies ſky ſome ſpread ſpring ſtand ſtate ſteps ſtill ſtream ſtrong ſweet tear tender thee theſe thine THOMAS WARTON thoſe thou thro throne tow'rs vale vermil virtue whofe Whoſe zour
Popular passages
Page 68 - 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 66 - Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke; How jocund did they drive their team afield! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!
Page 65 - 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 65 - 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 68 - There at the foot of yonder nodding beech That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noon-tide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by.
Page 69 - 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 65 - Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
Page 66 - And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Awaits alike th' inevitable hour: The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Page 40 - Whose numbers, stealing through thy darkening vale, May not unseemly with its stillness suit ; As musing slow I hail Thy genial loved return. For when thy folding-star * arising shows His paly circlet, at his warning lamp The fragrant Hours, and Elves Who slept in buds the day, And many a Nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge And sheds the freshening dew, and lovelier still The pensive Pleasures sweet Prepare thy shadowy car.
Page 66 - Rich with the fpoils of time did ne'er unroll ; Chill Penury reprefs'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the foul.