Beauties of the Scottish poets, or Harp of Renfrewshire, a collection of songs and other poetical pieces, with notes, and a short essay on the poets of Renfrewshire [by W. Motherwell. Re-issue of the harp of Renfrewshire, with cancel title-leaf]. |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 5
Page xlii
The sensibility of Tannahill appears to have been greater than bis genius , and
his heart more susceptible of tender than deep feeling . On the whole , we
believe his poetical character to have been over - rated , and that sympathy for
his fate to ...
The sensibility of Tannahill appears to have been greater than bis genius , and
his heart more susceptible of tender than deep feeling . On the whole , we
believe his poetical character to have been over - rated , and that sympathy for
his fate to ...
Page 7
Renfrew county William Motherwell. But she who not a thought disguises , Whose
love is as sincere as sweet , When she can change who loved so truly , It feels
what mine has felt so newly . To dream of joy and wake to sorrow Is doomed to all
...
Renfrew county William Motherwell. But she who not a thought disguises , Whose
love is as sincere as sweet , When she can change who loved so truly , It feels
what mine has felt so newly . To dream of joy and wake to sorrow Is doomed to all
...
Page 214
Then why should my youth feel the blight of despair , Sweet visions of fancy may
lighten my care ! Rise , pleasing remembrance , and banish my fears , That hope
may spring up , in the dew of those tears , For smiling propitious , kind heaven ...
Then why should my youth feel the blight of despair , Sweet visions of fancy may
lighten my care ! Rise , pleasing remembrance , and banish my fears , That hope
may spring up , in the dew of those tears , For smiling propitious , kind heaven ...
Page 247
Heaven knows I little thought That from such eyes such ills could flow , But who
could gaze as I have gaz ' d , And not feel , as I feel now . Deep in love , & c . I
was young , and she was fair , I was fond , and oft she sung Of love , while I , oh ...
Heaven knows I little thought That from such eyes such ills could flow , But who
could gaze as I have gaz ' d , And not feel , as I feel now . Deep in love , & c . I
was young , and she was fair , I was fond , and oft she sung Of love , while I , oh ...
Page 299
Whose heart alone , though broken , to conceal , Could feel its fire - too deeply -
finely feel In wayward thrall , thus many a day went past , But freedom came , his
spirit rose at last , Shook off the spell - march ' d - minglid with the brave , And ...
Whose heart alone , though broken , to conceal , Could feel its fire - too deeply -
finely feel In wayward thrall , thus many a day went past , But freedom came , his
spirit rose at last , Shook off the spell - march ' d - minglid with the brave , And ...
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Beauties of the Scottish Poets, Or Harp of Renfrewshire, a Collection of ... Scottish Poets,Renfrew County No preview available - 2016 |
The Harp of Renfrewshire: A Collection of Songs and Other Poetical Pieces ... Renfrew County No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
appear beauty bloom bonny bosom breast bright charms cheek cold dark dear death deep delight fair father fear feel flower frae give grave hand happy head hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour I'll John kind known lady land lassie leave light live look maid mair Mary meet mind morning mountain native nature ne'er never night o'er once peace piece pleasure poem poet poor present published rest rise rose round scenes side sigh sing sleep smile song soon sorrow soul sound spirit sweet tear tell thee There's thine thing thou thought tree true Twas wander wave weary weel weep wild Willy wind written young youth
Popular passages
Page 334 - Take, oh take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn; But my kisses bring again, bring again, Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.
Page 2 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Not in sheet nor in shroud we wound him; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Page 281 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That had'st thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died. Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired. Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee, —...
Page 136 - She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps, And lovers around her are sighing; But coldly she turns from their gaze and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying.
Page 412 - With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me and be my love.
Page 382 - FAINTLY as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time. Soon as the woods on shore look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn. Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, The Rapids are near and the daylight's past.
Page 271 - THE YOUNG MAY MOON. THE young May moon is beaming, love, The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love, How sweet to rove Through Morna's grove,* When the drowsy world is dreaming, love ! Then awake ! — the heavens look bright, my dear, 'Tis never too late for delight, my dear, And the best of all ways To lengthen our days Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear.
Page 414 - The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward Winter reckoning yields: A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall. Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses, Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies, Soon break, soon wither — soon forgotten...
Page 1 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
Page 3 - We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow ! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little hell reck if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him...