Chaucer to Burns

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William James Linton, Richard Henry Stoddard
C. Scribner's Sons, 1883
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Página 93 - a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell : Ding-dong ! Hark! now I hear them—Ding-dong bell! Where the bee sucks, there lurk I; In a cowslip's bell I lie ; There I couch when owls do cry ; On the bat's back I do fly, After sunset, merrily. Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,
Página 287 - Gude faith ! he mauna fa' that. For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities and a' that, The pith o' sense and pride o' worth Are higher ranks than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will for a' that, That sense and worth o'er a' the earth That man to man the
Página 249 - his knees the envied kiss to share. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield ; Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team a-ficld ! How bow'd the woods beneath their sturdy stroke! ;»-• — ' Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
Página 249 - docs to the moon complain Of such as wandering near her secret bower Molest her ancient solitary reign. Beneath these rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap, Each in his narrow cell forever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of
Página 178 - Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retired : Bid her come forth, Suffer herself to be desired, And not blush so to be admired ! Then die ! that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee : How small a part of time they share They are so wondrous sweet and fair.
Página 201 - ON THE LATE MASSACRE IN PIEDMONT. Avenge, O Lord ! thy slaughter'd saints, whose bones Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold : Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worship'd stocks and stones, Forget not! In thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody
Página 95 - WINTER. When icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, And milk comes frozen home in pail, When blood is nipp'd, and ways be foul, Then nightly sings the staring owl: Tu whit! Tu
Página 128 - TAKE THOSE LIPS AWAY! Take, O take those lips away That so sweetly were forsworn ! And those eyes, like break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn! But my kisses bring again, Seals of love, though seal'd in vain ! Hide, O hide those hills of snow Which thy frozen
Página 98 - SERENADE. Hark ! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, And Phoebus gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies : And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes ; With every thing that pretty been : My Lady sweet! arise
Página 185 - VALLEGRO. Hence, loathed Melancholy! Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn 'Mongst horrid shapes and shrieks and sights unholy I Find out some uncouth cell Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous wings And the night-raven sings ! There, under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks As ragged as thy locks,

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