Ballads, Poems, and Lyrics, Original and Translated

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J. McGlashan, 1850 - 388페이지
 

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135 페이지 - AH! my heart is weary waiting, Waiting for the May — Waiting for the pleasant rambles, Where the fragrant hawthorn brambles, With the woodbine alternating, Scent the dewy way. Ah ! my heart is weary waiting, Waiting for the May.
383 페이지 - The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame Over his living head like Heaven is bent, An early but enduring monument...
136 페이지 - Hopes and flowers that, dead or dying, All the winter lay. Ah! my heart is sore with sighing, Sighing for the May. Ah! my heart is pained with throbbing, Throbbing for the May, Throbbing for the seaside billows, Or the water-wooing willows, Where, in laughing and in sobbing, Glide the streams away. Ah! my heart, my heart is throbbing, Throbbing for the May. Waiting, sad, dejected, weary, Waiting for the May, Spring goes by with wasted warnings...
11 페이지 - Laboureth ever and ever with hope through the morning of life, Winning home and its darling divinities — love-worshipped children and wife. Round swings the hammer of industry, quickly the sharp chisel rings, And the heart of the toiler has throbbings that stir not the bosom oi...
199 페이지 - Do our numbers multiply But to perish and to die? Is this all our destiny below, — That our bodies, as they rot, May fertilize the spot Where the harvests of the stranger grow? If this be, indeed, our fate, Far, far better now, though late, That we seek some other land and try some other zone; The coldest, bleakest shore Will surely yield us more Than the storehouse of the stranger that we dare not call our own.
362 페이지 - ... precipice is alike to him, provided he gratifies the malevolence that seems to inspire him. He bounds and flies over and beyond them, gratified by the distress, and utterly reckless and ruthless of the cries, and danger, and suffering, of the luckless wight who bestrides him. As the ' Tinna Geolaue,' or Will-o'-the-Wisp, he lures but to betray; like the Hanoverian 'Tuckbold*,' he deludes the night wanderer into a bog, and leads him to his destruction in a quagmire or pit.
375 페이지 - Rocks) the receptacle of a deale of scales thereon yearly slaughtered. These rocks sometimes appear to be a great city far off, full of houses, castles, towers, and chimneys ; sometimes full of blazing flames, smoak, and people running to and fro. Another day you would see nothing but a number of ships, with their sailes and riggings ; then so many great stakes or reekes of corn and turf...
383 페이지 - O ! beauty, some spell from kind Nature thou bearest, Some magic of tone or enchantment of eye, That hearts that are hardest, from forms that are fairest, Receive such impressions as never can die ! The foot of the fairy, though lightsome and airy, Can stamp on the hard rock * the shape it doth wear, Art cannot trace it nor ages efface it — And such are thy glances, sweet Kate of Kenmare...
148 페이지 - Here was placed the holy chalice that held the sacred wine, And the gold cross from the altar, and the relics from the shrine, And the mitre shining brighter with its diamonds than the East, And the crozier of the Pontiff and the vestments of the Priest!
382 페이지 - ... all we be made as white as any snow, for to praise our Lorde in the best wise we may. And then all the birds began to sing even song so merrilie, that it was an heavenlie noise to hear ; and, after supper, Saint Brandon and his fellows went to bed and slept well And in the morn they arose by times, and then these foules began mattyns, prime, and hours, and all such service as Christian men used to sing ; and St. Brandon, with his fellows, abode there seven weeks, until Trinity Sunday was passed.

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