The Poetical Works of Andrew Park |
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Page xi
... sight ; Then shall the joys , they now so fondly greet , Sink to oblivion in the shades of night ; And almost every true and pure delight , Take to them wings , and urge those wings in flight . Mel . ' Tis well ! Proceed , and tell me ...
... sight ; Then shall the joys , they now so fondly greet , Sink to oblivion in the shades of night ; And almost every true and pure delight , Take to them wings , and urge those wings in flight . Mel . ' Tis well ! Proceed , and tell me ...
Page xii
Andrew Park. Thou'rt pressing close upon mine opening Sight , Thine orbs are rolling near me wondrous bright . I feel enveloped with some holy flame , That makes me all ethereal and gay , As if my spirit , weary of its frame , Would now ...
Andrew Park. Thou'rt pressing close upon mine opening Sight , Thine orbs are rolling near me wondrous bright . I feel enveloped with some holy flame , That makes me all ethereal and gay , As if my spirit , weary of its frame , Would now ...
Page xvii
... morn— Of the ruby - leaf'd rose , and the white - blossom'd thorn— Of faces that know me , of friends who are kind ; But , ah ! you forget I am blind , I am blind ! O , when shall I see those sweet sights that PREFACE . xvii.
... morn— Of the ruby - leaf'd rose , and the white - blossom'd thorn— Of faces that know me , of friends who are kind ; But , ah ! you forget I am blind , I am blind ! O , when shall I see those sweet sights that PREFACE . xvii.
Page xviii
Andrew Park. O , when shall I see those sweet sights that you see ? What a world of joy would such things be to me ! Shall I never behold them ? —O , tell me , my friend , Shall darkness that shrouds me , O ne'er have an end ? " O yes ...
Andrew Park. O , when shall I see those sweet sights that you see ? What a world of joy would such things be to me ! Shall I never behold them ? —O , tell me , my friend , Shall darkness that shrouds me , O ne'er have an end ? " O yes ...
Page xxii
... Sight 302 What is Sparkling Wit ? The Auld Abbey 303 With Gladness on each Face The Rover's Song 305 What Ails my Heart ? The Winter Nights 306 We Cannot Part To - night The Place of our Birth 307 What are Hopes and Fears ? The cauld ...
... Sight 302 What is Sparkling Wit ? The Auld Abbey 303 With Gladness on each Face The Rover's Song 305 What Ails my Heart ? The Winter Nights 306 We Cannot Part To - night The Place of our Birth 307 What are Hopes and Fears ? The cauld ...
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Common terms and phrases
æther beauteous beauty behold blind bliss bosom breast breathe breeze bright brow charm chinkee clouds dark dastard death deep dread dream Dunoon e'er earth echo Edwin Emma face fair fame fancy fear feel flowers fond frae friends gaze gentle glad Glasgow glory glowing Goatfell grief hall happy haste heart heaven hills hope hour Lacy light look Lucy Neal lyre merry England mind mirth morn mountains ne'er neath never night o'er Oliver pain pibroch pleasure poor pride rapture rays rill ROPHINO round Ruffian Sandyford scene Scotland Sentinel sigh sight silence sing Sir Alfred smile soft song soon sorrow soul sparkling spirit stars STEERWELL strange stream sublime sweet tears thee thine things thou thought trees truth Twas Twill voice Waller waves WETHERAL wings young youth
Popular passages
Page 149 - To a poet nothing can be useless. Whatever is beautiful, and whatever is dreadful, must be familiar to his imagination : he must be conversant with all that is awfully vast or elegantly little.
Page 140 - And he fell to the earth, and heard a voice saying unto him, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? And he said, Who art thou Lord? And the Lord said. I am Jesus whom thou persecutest: It is hard for thee to kick against the pricks.
Page 149 - The plants of the garden, the animals of the wood, the minerals of the earth, and meteors of the sky, must all concur to store his mind with inexhaustible variety : for every idea is useful for the enforcement or decoration of moral or religious truth ; and he, who knows most, will have most power of diversifying his scenes, and of gratifying his reader with remote allusions and unexpected instruction. " All the appearances of nature I was therefore careful to study, and every country which I have...
Page 140 - When he had thus spoken, he spat on the ground, and made clay of the spittle, and he anointed the eyes of the blind man with the clay, and said unto him, Go, wash in the pool of Siloam, (which is by interpretation, Sent.) He went his way therefore, and washed, and came seeing.
Page 142 - June, 1790, a victim to the perilous and benevolent attempt to ascertain the cause of, and find an efficacious remedy for, the plague. He trod an open but unfrequented path to immortality, in the ardent and unremitted exercise of Christian charity. May this tribute to his fame excite an emulation of his truly glorious achievements.
Page 139 - The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus. Let no such man be trusted.
Page 146 - Cheselden tells us that the first time the boy saw a black object it gave him great uneasiness; and that some time after, upon accidentally seeing a negro woman, he was struck with great horror at the sight.
Page 141 - This extraordinary man had the fortune to be honoured whilst living in the manner which his virtues deserved ; He received the thanks of both houses of the British and Irish Parliaments for his eminent services rendered to his country, and to mankind. Our national prisons and hospitals, improved upon the suggestion of his wisdom, bear testimony to the solidity of his judgment, and to the estimation in which he was held. In every part of the civilized world, which he traversed to reduce the sum of...
Page 142 - His modesty alone defeated various efforts that were made during his life to erect this statue, which the public has now consecrated to his memory ! He was born at Hackney, in the county of Middlesex, Sept.
Page 259 - HURRAH for the Highlands ! the stern Scottish Highlands, The home of the clansman, the brave, and the free; Where the clouds love to rest, on the mountain's rough breast, Ere they journey afar o'er the islandless sea.