The Works of the British Poets, Selected and Chronologically Arranged...: From Falconer to Sir Walter Scott

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D. Appleton, 1852 - English poetry
 

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Page 292 - And Jesus sat over against the treasury, and beheld how the people cast money into the treasury: and many that were rich cast in much. And there came a certain poor widow, and she threw in two mites, which make a farthing. And he called unto him his disciples, and saith unto them: "Verily I say unto you, that this poor widow hath cast more in, than all they which have cast into the treasury: for all they did cast in of their abundance; but she of her want did cast in all that she had, even all her...
Page 230 - Their tinsel show, and a' that; The honest man, though e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that. 112 Ye see yon birkie, ca'da lord, Wha struts, and stares, and a* that; Though hundreds worship at his word, He's but a coof for a* that: For a' that, and a' that, His riband, star, and a' that: The man of independent mind, He looks and laughs at a
Page 230 - Let him on wi' me. By oppression's woes and pains ! By your Sons in servile chains ! We will drain our dearest veins, But they shall be Free ! Lay the proud Usurpers low ! Tyrants fall in every foe ! Liberty's in every blow ! Let us Do or Die ! ! ! So may God ever defend the cause of Truth and Liberty, as he did that day ! Amen !— RB FOR A' THAT AND A
Page 202 - Though they may gang a kennin wrang, To step aside is human : One point must still be greatly dark, The moving Why they do it ; And just as lamely can ye mark, How far perhaps they rue it. Who made the heart, '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 211 - The priest-like father reads the sacred page, How Abram was the friend of God on high; Or, Moses bade eternal warfare wage With Amalek's ungracious progeny; Or how the royal bard did groaning lie Beneath the stroke of heaven's avenging ire; Or, Job's pathetic plaint, and wailing cry; Or rapt Isaiah's wild, seraphic fire; Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre. Perhaps...
Page 210 - November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh ; The short'ning winter-day is near a close ; The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh ; The black'ning trains o' craws to their repose : The toil-worn Cotter frae his labour goes, This night his weekly moil is at an end, Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes, Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hameward bend. At length his lonely cot appears in view, Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; Th' expectant...
Page 224 - Nick, in shape o' beast; A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large, To gie them music was his charge: He screw'd the pipes and gart them skirl, Till roof and rafters a
Page 227 - A weary slave frae sun to sun, Could I the rich reward secure, The lovely Mary Morison. Yestreen when to the trembling string The dance gaed thro...
Page 413 - His animal being ; in them did he live, And by them did he live; they were his life. In such access of mind, in such high hour Of visitation from the living God, Thought was not; in enjoyment it expired. No thanks he breathed, he proffered no request; Rapt into still communion that transcends The imperfect offices of prayer and praise, His mind was a thanksgiving to the power That made him; it was blessedness and love!
Page 211 - yont the hallan snugly chows her cood ; The dame brings forth in complimental mood, To grace the lad, her weel-hain'd kebbuck, fell ; An' aft he's prest, an' aft he ca's it guid ; The frugal wifie, garrulous, will tell, How 'twas a towmond auld, sin' lint was i

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