Then dry that tearfu' ee, Jean; My soul langs to be free, Jean; And angels wait on me To the Land o' the Leal. ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. Our bonnie bairn 's there, Jean, She was baith gude and fair, Jean, And we grudged her sair To the Land o' the Leal! But sorrow's self wears past, Jean, And joy's a comin' fast, Jean, The joy that's aye to last, In the Land of the Leal. A' our friends are gane, Jean; In the Land o' the Leal. In the Land o' the Leal. ROBERT BLOOMFIELD. [1766-1823.] 87 At first he looked distrustful, almost shy, And cast on me his coal-black steadfast eye, And seemed to say, - past friendship to came A robin on the threshold; though so tame, I raved at war and all its horrid cost, And glory's quagmire, where the brave are lost. On carnage, fire, and plunder long I mused, And cursed the murdering weapons I had used. Two shadows then I saw, two voices heard, One bespoke age, and one a child's appeared. In stepped my father with convulsive start, And in an instant clasped me to his heart. Close by him stood a little blue-eyed maid; And stooping to the child, the old man said, "Come hither, Nancy, kiss me once again; This is your uncle Charles, come home from Spain." The child approached, and with her fingers light Stroked my old eyes, almost deprived of sight. But why thus spin my tale, thus tedious be? Happy cld soldier! what's the world to me? The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede When the rude wintry win' away. WILLIAM R. SPENCER. And the roar of the linn As the storm rattles o'er us, Now the summer's in prime Let us journey together, Where glad innocence reigns 'Mang the braes o' Balquhither. WILLIAM R. SPENCER. [1770-1834-] TO THE LADY ANNE HAMILTON. Too late I stayed, forgive the crime, What eye with clear account remarks Ah! who to sober measurement JAMES GLASSFORD. .] ---- be rent; But weep not for him who is gone to his rest, 89 The sun is not set, but is risen on high, Nor mourn for the ransomed, nor wail for the blest. JOSEPH BLANCO WHITE. Nor the music of heaven be discord below; Rather loud be the song, and triumphant the chord, Let us joy for the dead who have died in the Lord. [1772THE DEAD WHO HAVE DIED IN THE LORD. Hesperus, with the host of heaven, came, And lo! creation widened in man's view. Go, call for the mourners, and raise the Who could have thought such darkness lament, Let the tresses be torn, and the garments lay concealed Within thy beams, C sun! or who could find, Whilst fly, and leaf, and insect stood revealed, JOSEPH BLANCO WHITE. [1775-1841.] NIGHT AND DEATH. MYSTERIOUS night! when our first parent knew Thee from report Divine, and heard thy name, Did he not tremble for this lovely frame, This glorious canopy of light and blue? Yet, 'neath a curtain of translucent dew, Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame, That to such countless orbs thou mad'st us blind? |
0 Recensies Reviews worden niet geverifieerd, maar Google checkt wel op nepcontent en verwijdert zulke content als die wordt gevonden. Review schrijven |