Songs of Home: Selected from Many Sources ; with Numerous Illustrations from Original DesignsC. Scribner and Company, 1871 - 176 páginas |
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Página 14
... weary waiting , As many a time before : Her foot is ever at the threshold , Yet never passes o'er . BAYARD TAYLOR . THE MORNING - GLORY . WE wreathed about our darling's head The morning - glory bright ; Her little face looked out ...
... weary waiting , As many a time before : Her foot is ever at the threshold , Yet never passes o'er . BAYARD TAYLOR . THE MORNING - GLORY . WE wreathed about our darling's head The morning - glory bright ; Her little face looked out ...
Página 36
... weary way ; But never , never can forget The luve o ' life's young day ! The fire that's blawn on Beltane e'en May weel be black gin Yule ; But blacker fa ' awaits the heart Where first fond luve grows cule . O dear , dear Jeanie ...
... weary way ; But never , never can forget The luve o ' life's young day ! The fire that's blawn on Beltane e'en May weel be black gin Yule ; But blacker fa ' awaits the heart Where first fond luve grows cule . O dear , dear Jeanie ...
Página 40
... weary lot ; But in my wanderings , far or near , Ye never were forgot . The fount that first burst frae this heart Still travels on its way ; And channels deeper , as it rins , The luve o ' life's young day . O dear , dear Jeanie ...
... weary lot ; But in my wanderings , far or near , Ye never were forgot . The fount that first burst frae this heart Still travels on its way ; And channels deeper , as it rins , The luve o ' life's young day . O dear , dear Jeanie ...
Página 45
... Weary and famished , cold and sore , Warmth , rest , refreshment , we implore ; 66 So , master , be your roof - tree blest In coming and in parting guest , " And we your pity will requite With nimble handicraft to - night . " v1 ...
... Weary and famished , cold and sore , Warmth , rest , refreshment , we implore ; 66 So , master , be your roof - tree blest In coming and in parting guest , " And we your pity will requite With nimble handicraft to - night . " v1 ...
Página 52
... winsome ways . Only Time can give relief To the weary , lonesome grief ; God's sweet minister of pain Then shall sing of loss and gain . NORA PERRY . TO MARY . THE twentieth year is well - nigh Loss AND GAIN Nora Perry.
... winsome ways . Only Time can give relief To the weary , lonesome grief ; God's sweet minister of pain Then shall sing of loss and gain . NORA PERRY . TO MARY . THE twentieth year is well - nigh Loss AND GAIN Nora Perry.
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Términos y frases comunes
ALFRED TENNYSON AULD ROBIN GRAY awoke from sleep beauty BELLS OF SHANDON Bingen birds blessed Bobbett bonnie lassie breast brow bucket cattle home Charlie's sake cheek chestnut rails cold dark dead dear deep dost dream Edward eyes fair father flowers frae FRANCIS MAHONY grave grief hae killed hair heard heart heaven Jean JEANIE MORRISON John Anderson JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER kiss knee kye come hame lay asleep Leal lips LIVING LOST look Macdonough maiden mair Mary MAUD MULLER Meärianne mischief brews moon morning mother never night o'er old familiar faces old oaken bucket pale quhat wul remember Rhine river Lee round sand shine silent sing smile snow song sorrow sweet tears tell thee There's THOMAS HOOD thou thought tree Twas W. J. Linton wean weary wedding WEEL BEFA weep WILLIAM MOTHERWELL Willie window zour
Pasajes populares
Página 47 - WITH deep affection And recollection I often think of Those Shandon bells, Whose sounds so wild would, In the days of childhood, Fling round my cradle Their magic spells. On this I ponder Where'er I wander, And thus grow fonder, Sweet Cork, of thee, — With thy bells of Shandon, That sound so grand on The pleasant waters Of the river Lee.
Página 88 - And saw Maud Muller standing still. "A form more fair, a face more sweet, Ne'er hath it been my lot to meet. "And her modest answer and graceful air Show her wise and good as she is fair.
Página 164 - Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea ! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon...
Página 93 - It might have been.' Alas for maiden, alas for Judge, For rich repiner and household drudge ! God pity them both ! and pity us all, Who vainly the dreams of youth recall. For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these :
Página 29 - SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise, And very few to love. A Violet by a mossy stone Half-hidden from the eye ! — Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
Página 160 - They are only one times one. 0 moon ! in the night I have seen you sailing And shining so round and low ; You were bright ! ah bright ! but your light is failing — You are nothing now but a bow. You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven That God has hidden your face ? 1 hope if you have you will soon be forgiven, And shine again in your place.
Página 86 - Muller, on a summer's day, Raked the meadow sweet with hay. Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth Of simple beauty and rustic health. Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee The mock-bird echoed from his tree. But, when she glanced to the far-off town, White from its hill-slope looking down, The sweet song died, and a vague unrest And a nameless longing filled her breast — A wish that she hardly dared to own, For something better than she had known.
Página 137 - Woodman, spare that tree ! Touch not a single bough ! In youth it sheltered me, And I'll protect it now. 'Twas my forefather's hand That placed it near his cot; There, woodman, let it stand, Thy axe shall harm it not. That old familiar tree, Whose glory and renown Are spread o'er land and sea — And wouldst thou hew it down? Woodman, forbear thy stroke! Cut not its earth-bound ties...
Página 14 - John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi' ane anither : Now we maun totter down, John, But hand in hand we'll go, And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson my jo.
Página 39 - The burn sang to the trees, And we, with Nature's heart in tune, Concerted harmonies ; And on the knowe abune the burn, For hours thegither sat In the silentness o' joy, till baith Wi