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
... moment , To dress her dark brown hair ; I hear the rustle of her garments , Her light step on the stair ! O , fluttering heart , control thy tumult . Lest eyes profane should see THE MORNING - GLORY . My cheeks betray the rush.
... moment , To dress her dark brown hair ; I hear the rustle of her garments , Her light step on the stair ! O , fluttering heart , control thy tumult . Lest eyes profane should see THE MORNING - GLORY . My cheeks betray the rush.
Página 14
... cheeks betray the rush of rapture Her coming brings to me ! She tarries long : but lo , a whisper Beyond the open door ! And , gliding through the quiet sunshine , A shadow on the floor ! Ah ! ' tis the whispering pine that calls me ...
... cheeks betray the rush of rapture Her coming brings to me ! She tarries long : but lo , a whisper Beyond the open door ! And , gliding through the quiet sunshine , A shadow on the floor ! Ah ! ' tis the whispering pine that calls me ...
Página 21
... cheek went as red as a rose ; There's never a mortal con tell Heaw happy aw felt - for , thae knows , One couldn't ha ' axed him theirsel ' . But th ' tale wur at th ' end o ' my tung : To let it eawt wouldn't be reet , For aw thought ...
... cheek went as red as a rose ; There's never a mortal con tell Heaw happy aw felt - for , thae knows , One couldn't ha ' axed him theirsel ' . But th ' tale wur at th ' end o ' my tung : To let it eawt wouldn't be reet , For aw thought ...
Página 32
... cheek or faded eye : Yet , O my friend , I will not have thee die ! Ask me no more , lest I should bid thee live ; Ask me no more . Ask me no more : thy fate and mine are sealed ; I strove against the stream , and all in vain . Let the ...
... cheek or faded eye : Yet , O my friend , I will not have thee die ! Ask me no more , lest I should bid thee live ; Ask me no more . Ask me no more : thy fate and mine are sealed ; I strove against the stream , and all in vain . Let the ...
Página 37
... Cheek touchin ' cheek , loof locked in loof , What our wee heads could think . When baith bent doun ower ae braid page , Wi ' ae buik on our knee , Thy lips were on thy lesson , but My lesson was in thee . O , mind ye how we hung our ...
... Cheek touchin ' cheek , loof locked in loof , What our wee heads could think . When baith bent doun ower ae braid page , Wi ' ae buik on our knee , Thy lips were on thy lesson , but My lesson was in thee . O , mind ye how we hung our ...
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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