FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151  
152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   169   170   171   172   173   174   175   176   >>   >|  
victor by,-- That throb, Eliza, is thy part, And thine that latest sigh! A Bard's Epitaph Is there a whim-inspired fool, Owre fast for thought, owre hot for rule, Owre blate to seek, owre proud to snool, Let him draw near; And owre this grassy heap sing dool, And drap a tear. Is there a bard of rustic song, Who, noteless, steals the crowds among, That weekly this area throng, O, pass not by! But, with a frater-feeling strong, Here, heave a sigh. Is there a man, whose judgment clear Can others teach the course to steer, Yet runs, himself, life's mad career, Wild as the wave, Here pause--and, thro' the starting tear, Survey this grave. The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn the wise to know, And keenly felt the friendly glow, And softer flame; But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name! Reader, attend! whether thy soul Soars fancy's flights beyond the pole, Or darkling grubs this earthly hole, In low pursuit: Know, prudent, cautious, self-control Is wisdom's root. Epitaph For Robert Aiken, Esq. Know thou, O stranger to the fame Of this much lov'd, much honoured name! (For none that knew him need be told) A warmer heart death ne'er made cold. Epitaph For Gavin Hamilton, Esq. The poor man weeps--here Gavin sleeps, Whom canting wretches blam'd; But with such as he, where'er he be, May I be sav'd or damn'd! Epitaph On "Wee Johnie" Hic Jacet wee Johnie. Whoe'er thou art, O reader, know That Death has murder'd Johnie; An' here his body lies fu' low; For saul he ne'er had ony. The Lass O' Ballochmyle Tune--"Ettrick Banks." 'Twas even--the dewy fields were green, On every blade the pearls hang; The zephyr wanton'd round the bean, And bore its fragrant sweets alang: In ev'ry glen the mavis sang, All nature list'ning seem'd the while, Except where greenwood echoes rang, Amang the braes o' Ballochmyle. With careless step I onward stray'd, My heart rejoic'd in nature's joy, When, musing in a lonely glade, A maiden fair I chanc'd to spy: Her look was like the morning's eye, Her air like nature's vernal smile: Perfection w
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151  
152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   169   170   171   172   173   174   175   176   >>   >|  



Top keywords:
Epitaph
 

nature

 

Johnie

 

Ballochmyle

 

murder

 
Ettrick
 
pearls
 

fields

 
reader
 

canting


wretches

 

sleeps

 
Hamilton
 

latest

 
wanton
 

musing

 
lonely
 
rejoic
 

careless

 

onward


maiden

 

vernal

 

Perfection

 

morning

 

victor

 

sweets

 

fragrant

 

echoes

 

greenwood

 

Except


zephyr

 
career
 

grassy

 

inhabitant

 

Survey

 
starting
 

weekly

 
throng
 

crowds

 
rustic

noteless
 

steals

 
judgment
 
frater
 

feeling

 

strong

 
keenly
 

Robert

 
thought
 

wisdom