Poems and Songs

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John Murray, 1847 - Electronic books - 151 pages
 

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Page 97 - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for a soft and gentle wind!
Page 97 - I heard a fair one cry; But give to me the snoring breeze And white waves heaving high; And white waves heaving high, my boys, The good ship tight and free — The world of waters is our home, And merry men are we.
Page 98 - And hark the music, mariners! The wind is piping loud; The wind is piping loud, my boys, The lightning flashes free — While the hollow oak our palace is, Our heritage the sea.
Page 27 - THE sun rises bright in France, And fair sets he ; But he has tint the blythe blink he had In my ain countree. O it's nae my ain ruin That saddens aye my e'e, But the dear Marie I left ahin', Wi' sweet bairnies three. My lanely hearth burn'd bonnie, An" smiled my ain Marie; I've left a' my heart behin
Page 57 - Tis sweet to thee To sit where birds can sit alone, Or share with thee thy venturous throne. Child of the town and bustling street, What woes and snares await thy feet ! Thy paths are paved for five long miles, Thy groves and hills are peaks and tiles ; Thy fragrant air is yon thick smoke, Which shrouds thee like a mourning cloak ; And thou art cabin'd and confined.
Page 18 - I'll meet them baith in heaven At the spring o
Page 25 - That a' the noble martyrs wha died for loyaltie May rise again an' fight for their ain countree. The great now are gane, a' wha ventured to save, The new grass is springing on the tap o...
Page 83 - NATURE ! holy, meek, and mild, Thou dweller on the mountain wild; Thou haunter of the lonesome wood; .Thou wanderer by the secret flood ; Thou lover of the daisied sod, Where Spring's white foot hath lately trod ; Finder of flowers, fresh-sprung and new, Where sunshine comes to seek the dew; Twiner of bowers for lovers meet; Smoother of sods for poets...
Page 65 - Nor mirth, nor sweetest song which flows To sober joys and soften woes, Can make my heart or fancy flee One moment, my sweet wife, from thee. Even while I muse, I see thee sit In maiden bloom and matron wit, Fair, gentle as when first I sued, Ye seem, but of sedater mood...
Page 8 - Low there thou lies, my lassie, Low there thou lies ; A bonnier form ne'er went to the yird, Nor frae it will arise ! Fu' soon I'll follow thee, my lassie, Fu' soon I'll follow thee ; Thou left me nought to covet ahin', But took gudeness sel' wi

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