The Works of Professor Wilson of the University of Edinburgh: Essays critical and imaginative

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Сторінка 125 - And all their echoes, mourn. The willows and the hazel copses green Shall now no more be seen Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays. As killing as the canker...
Сторінка 339 - Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony.
Сторінка 119 - For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that, The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher ranks than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that — That sense and worth o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that. For a' that, and a' that, It's coming yet, for a
Сторінка 137 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha for Scotland's king and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand or freeman fa', Let him follow me!
Сторінка 339 - A wicked whisper came, and made My heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat ; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet.
Сторінка 340 - Beyond the shadow of the ship, I watched the water-snakes: They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire.
Сторінка 308 - Thou too, hoar Mount! with thy sky-pointing peaks, Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard, Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene Into the depth of clouds, that veil thy breast— Thou too again, stupendous Mountain! thou That as I raise my head, awhile bowed low In adoration, upward from thy base Slow...
Сторінка 15 - Ye banks and braes and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie ! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry ; For there I took the last fareweel O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie ; For dear to me as light and life Was my...
Сторінка 336 - Upon the slimy sea! About, about, in reel and rout, The death-fires danced at night: The water, like a witch's oils, Burnt green, and blue, and white. And some in dreams assured were Of. the Spirit that plagued us so; Nine fathom deep he had followed us From the land of mist and snow.
Сторінка 32 - They chant their artless notes in simple guise, They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim ; Perhaps ' Dundee's' wild warbling measures rise, Or plaintive

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