An Hour With Thee (Sir Walter Scott Poems)
An hour with thee! When earliest dayDapples with gold the eastern gray,Oh, what can frame my mind to bearThe toil ...
An hour with thee! When earliest dayDapples with gold the eastern gray,Oh, what can frame my mind to bearThe toil ...
Into the quiet woodsCome from the glare and heatOf the paven street!Out of the jar and fretAnd the jangling noises!Here ...
What magic is there in thy mien What sorcery in thy smile,Which charms away all cark and care,Which turns the foul ...
What path list you to tread? What trade will you assay?The courts of plea by brawl and bate drive gentle ...
MARCH comes at last, the labouring lands to free.Rude blusterer, with thy cloud-compelling blast,The pining plains from cark of Winter ...
Frae the schulehoose that sat at the heid o' the green,To the fit o' the toon where the smiddy was ...
Ah me! conceiv'd in sin, and born in sorrow,A nothing, here to day, but gone to morrow,Whose mean beginning, blushing ...
Now the November skies,And the clouds that are thin and gray,That drop with the wind away;A flood of sunlight rolls,In ...
The bairnies cuddle doon at nicht, Wi' muckle faucht an' din—"O, try and sleep, ye waukrife rogues, Your faither's comin' ...
THERE'S a joy without canker or cark, There 's a pleasure eternally new, 'T is to gloat on the glaze ...
DID she in summer write it, or in spring, Or with this wail of autumn ...
When I am dead unto myself, and let,O Father, thee live on in me,Contented to do nought but pay my ...
Weep, weep, weep and weep,For pauper, dolt, and slave!Hark! from wasted moor and fen,Feverous alley, stifling den,Swells the wail of ...
What do I care if the trees are bare And the hills are dark And the skies are ...
In the valley of the Pegnitz, where across broad meadow-lands Rise the blue Franconian mountains, Nuremberg, the ancient, stands. Quaint ...
1.1 Lo now! four other acts upon the stage, 1.2 Childhood, and Youth, the Manly, and Old-age. 1.3 The first: ...
I. I stand on the mark beside the shore Of the first white pilgrim's bended knee, Where exile turned to ...
Now the November skies, And the clouds that are thin and gray, That drop with the wind away; A flood ...
Oh I am neither rich nor poor, No worker I dispoil; Yet I am glad to be secure From servitude ...
Here let us linger at will and delightsomely hearken Music aeolian of wind in the boughs of pine, Timbrel of ...
A pale enchanted moon is sinking low Behind the dunes that fringe the shadowy lea, And there is haunted starlight ...
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