Poems on Several Occasions: By Michael Bruce

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J. Robertson, 1770 - 117 pages
 

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Page 115 - Now Spring returns ; but not to me returns The vernal joy my better years have known ; Dim in my breast life's dying taper burns, And all the joys of life with health are flown.
Page 116 - I see the muddy wave, the dreary shore, The sluggish streams that slowly creep below, Which mortals visit, and return no more.
Page 114 - Ashley gather'd academic bays; Thus gentle Thomson, as the seasons roll, Taught them to sing the great Creator's praise, And bear their poet's name from pole to pole. Thus have I walk'd along the dewy lawn ; My frequent foot the blooming wild hath worn ; Before the lark I've sung the beauteous dawn, And gather'd health from all the gales of morn.
Page 111 - Soon as o'er eastern hills the morning peers, From her low nest the tufted lark upsprings And, cheerful singing, up the air she steers ; Still high she mounts, still loud and sweet she sings.
Page 34 - I'll ne'er wed man but thee ; The grave shall be my bridal bed, 'Ere Graham my husband be. Take then, dear youth, this faithful kiss In witness of my troth, And every plague become my lot, That day I break my oath.
Page 33 - My father's will must be obey'd, Nought boots me to withstand : Some fairer maid in beauty's bloom Shall bless thee with her hand. ' Soon will Matilda be forgot, And from thy mind effac'd ; But may that happiness be thine, Which I can never taste !' ' What do I hear ? Is this thy vow...
Page 42 - Matilda saw him fall, 0 spare his life ! she cried, Lord Buchan's daughter begs his life, Let her not be deny'd ? Her well known voice the hero heard, He rais'd his half-clos'd eyes, And fix'd them on the weeping maid, And weakly thus replies : In vain Matilda begs the life By death's arrest deny'd ; My race is run — Adieu, my love ! Then clos'd his eyes and dy'd.
Page 32 - He bade her wed Sir John the Graeme, And leave the youth she lov'd. One night they met, as they were wont, Deep in a shady wood ; Where on the bank, beside the burn, A blooming saugh-tree stood.
Page 87 - The street resounds with Labour's various voice, Who whistles at his work. Gay on the green Young blooming boys, and girls with golden hair, Trip nimble-footed, wanton in their play, The village hope.
Page 30 - And, waving o'er his shoulders broad, His locks of yellow flew. Wide were his fields ; his herds were large ; And large his flocks of sheep ; And numerous were his goats and deer Upon the mountain steep.

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