Начнём мы с раздела "MISCELLANEOUS POEMS", который включает в себя 75 различных стихотворений и занимает 64 страницы из 974 ( Read more... )

Go sit old Cheviot's crest below ( Read more... )

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .
And ne'er but once, my son, he says,
   Was yon sad cavern trod, --
In persecution's iron days,
   When the land was left by God.

From Bewlie bog, with slaughter red,
   A wanderer hither drew,
And oft he stopt and turn'd his head,
   As by fits the night wind blew;

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When fruitful Clydesdale's apple-bowers
   Are mellowing in the moon,
When sighs round Pembroke's ruin'd towers
   The sultry breath of June,

When Clyde, despite his sheltering wood,
   Must leave his channel dry,
And vainly o'er the limpid flood
   The angler guides his fly, --

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Take these flowers which, purple waving,
   On the ruin'd rampart grew,
Where, the sons of freedom braving,
   Rome's imperial standarts flew.

Warriors from the breach of danger
   Pluck no longer laurels there;
They but yield the passing stranger
   Wild-flower wreaths for Beauty's

1797

The violet in her greenwood bower ( Read more... )

Those evening clouds, that setting ray ( Read more... )

Loud o'er my head though awful thunders roll,
And vivid lightnings flash from pole to pole,
Yet ,tis thy voice, my God, that bids them fly,
Thy arm directs those lightnings through the sky.
Then let the good thy mighty name revere,
And harden'd sinners thy just vengeance fear.

1783

In awful ruins Aetna thunders nigh ( Read more... )