New College: Glasgow University Album

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James Maclehose., 1874
 

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Сторінка 201 - Curst be the heart that thought the thought, And curst the hand that fired the shot, When in my arms burd Helen dropt, And died to succour me ! O think na ye my heart was sair When my Love dropt down and spak nae mair ! There did she swoon wi' meikle care On fair Kirconnell lea.
Сторінка 110 - Of Heaven or hell I have no power to sing; I cannot ease the burden of your fears, Or make quick-coming death a little thing, Or bring again the pleasure of past years, Nor for my words shall ye forget your tears, Or hope again for aught that I can say, The idle singer of an empty day.
Сторінка 258 - My own hope is, a sun will pierce The thickest cloud earth ever stretched ; That, after Last, returns the First, Though a wide compass round be fetched ; That what began best, can't end worst, Nor what God blessed once, prove accurst.
Сторінка 202 - Haste, and come to me!" 0 Helen fair! O Helen chaste! If I were with thee, I were blest, Where thou lies low and takes thy rest On fair Kirconnell lea.
Сторінка 202 - I'll mak a garland o' thy hair, Shall bind my heart for evermair, Until the day I die! O that I were where Helen lies! Night and day on me she cries; Out of my bed she bids me rise, Says, "Haste, and come to me!
Сторінка 58 - To be no more. Sad cure! for who would lose, Though full of pain, this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through eternity, To perish rather, swallowed up and lost In the wide womb of uncreated Night, Devoid of sense and motion?
Сторінка 48 - Memory and her siren daughters ; but by devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whom He pleases.
Сторінка 45 - I am a part of all that I have met ; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use ! As tho
Сторінка 202 - Curst be the heart that thought the thought. And curst the hand that fired the shot. When in my arms burd ' Helen dropt. And died to succour me ! O think na ye my heart was sair, When my love dropt down and spak...

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