The works of professor Wilson, ed. by prof. Ferrier, Volume 31855 |
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Página ix
... Look on that Picture and on this , 186 The Wiseacre in the Quarterly identified , 187 The Shepherd's Obligations to him , 188 The Shepherd's true Friends - William Blackwood , 189 North - Maga - Lockhart - Scott , 190 Shepherd sings ...
... Look on that Picture and on this , 186 The Wiseacre in the Quarterly identified , 187 The Shepherd's Obligations to him , 188 The Shepherd's true Friends - William Blackwood , 189 North - Maga - Lockhart - Scott , 190 Shepherd sings ...
Página 1
... even nae less than a perfeck Poem ! North . Look , James , how she cowers within her couch- only the point of her bill , the tip of her tail , visible - so pas- VOL . III . A 2 A MAVIS'S NEST . — A SHILFA'S NEST . XXV JUNE MDCCCXXX.
... even nae less than a perfeck Poem ! North . Look , James , how she cowers within her couch- only the point of her bill , the tip of her tail , visible - so pas- VOL . III . A 2 A MAVIS'S NEST . — A SHILFA'S NEST . XXV JUNE MDCCCXXX.
Página 5
... look for them , sir ? English Opium - Eater . From the year 1811 - the year in which the Marrs and Williamsons were murdered1 - till the year 1821 , in which Buonaparte the little - vulgarly called Napoleon the Great - died of a cancer ...
... look for them , sir ? English Opium - Eater . From the year 1811 - the year in which the Marrs and Williamsons were murdered1 - till the year 1821 , in which Buonaparte the little - vulgarly called Napoleon the Great - died of a cancer ...
Página 16
... look sae white , and sae black , and sae red in the face , and then sae mottled , as if you had the measles ; for see , sir , how the evening sun- shine is sleeping on his grave ! North . No yew - tree , James , ever grew so fast before ...
... look sae white , and sae black , and sae red in the face , and then sae mottled , as if you had the measles ; for see , sir , how the evening sun- shine is sleeping on his grave ! North . No yew - tree , James , ever grew so fast before ...
Página 17
... look ( A noble young Newfoundlander comes bounding into the Arbour ) . Shepherd . Mercy me ! mercy me ! The verra dowg himsel ! The dowg wi ' the star - like breast ! North . Allow me , my friend , to introduce you to O'BRONTE ...
... look ( A noble young Newfoundlander comes bounding into the Arbour ) . Shepherd . Mercy me ! mercy me ! The verra dowg himsel ! The dowg wi ' the star - like breast ! North . Allow me , my friend , to introduce you to O'BRONTE ...
Índice
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365 | |
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373 | |
379 | |
Palavras e frases frequentes
admirable afore aften aiblins alang amang Ambrose aneuch anither auld baith beautifu beauty Blackwood Blackwood's Magazine bonny broon Byron byuck canna character Christopher North cretur Croker dear James delight Demonology dinna doun eemage English Opium-Eater eyes Fal de ral fear feeling frae freen Galt Galt's Gander Gander of Glasgow genius gien Glasgow Goose gude guse haill hauns hear heart heaven himsel human imagination intellect intil ither John Watson Gordon lassie Lord Byron mair maist maun micht mind Mister mony Moore Moore's Muir naething nature never Noctes North ower PICARDY poet poetry puir richt Shepherd Sir Walter Sir Walter Scott Snuggery soul sowl spirit sugh sumph sune thae there's thocht Tickler truth verra warld weel What's words yoursel
Passagens conhecidas
Página 43 - Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own ; Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind, And, even with something of a Mother's mind, And no unworthy aim, The homely Nurse doth all she can To make her Foster-child, her Inmate Man, Forget the glories he hath known, And that imperial palace whence he came. Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, A six years...
Página 226 - Now came still evening on, and twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad ; Silence accompanied ; for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale, She all night long her amorous descant sung...
Página 246 - What makes the youth sae bashfu' and sae grave; Weel-pleas'd to think her bairn's respected like the lave. O happy love ! where love like this is found : O heart-felt raptures ! bliss beyond compare ! I've paced much this weary, mortal round, And sage experience bids me this declare — ' If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare — One cordial in this melancholy vale, 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, In other's arms, breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk-white thorn that...
Página 246 - The mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy What makes the youth sae bashfu' an' sae grave; Weel pleas'd to think her bairn's respected like the lave, IX 0 happy love! where love like this is found; O heart-felt raptures! bliss beyond compare! I've paced much this weary, mortal round, And sage experience bids me this declare, "If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare, One cordial in this melancholy vale, T is when a youthful, loving, modest pair In other's arms breathe out the tender tale Beneath...
Página 356 - WHAT needs my Shakespeare, for his honour'd bones, The labour of an age in piled stones? Or that his hallow'd relics should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid? Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name? Thou, in our wonder and astonishment, Hast built thyself a livelong monument.
Página 52 - Had in her sober livery all things clad; Silence accompanied, for beast and bird, They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale; She all night long her amorous descant* sung; Silence was pleased: now...
Página 264 - Doomed for a certain term to walk the night; And, for the day, confined to fast in fires, Till the foul crimes, done in my days of nature, Are burnt and purged away.
Página 296 - A stranger yet to pain ? I feel the gales that from ye blow A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Página 51 - Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore, Give me TO SEE, — and Ajax asks no more.
Página 104 - ... that I scarce see what passes under my nose, and hear nothing that is said about me. To follow poetry as one ought, one must forget father and mother, and cleave to it alone.