Poems in 3 (4) Vols, Volume 2Simpkin, Marshall, 1853 |
Common terms and phrases
beams beautiful Black Bess blest bonnie bird brave breast breath bright brow bulrush cheek child cold courser cried dance dare dark deep dream dust dwell earth echo fair fame fling flower fresh gaze gentle gentle faith Glenarm glory gloweth gold grave green green waste Greenwood Fagot hand harvest band hath heart Hempseed laugh light lips lonely look loud lyre merry mirth Momus moon Murray plaid ne'er neath never nigh night o'er Patrick's Day poor pride quoth the grey red shoes rich ringdove robin Rook Rory O'More round shine shout sigh sing smile soft soul Spirit of Song spring star steed stream strong tears tell tempest band thee There's thing thou art thou hast Thou wert tide tone tree truth Twas voice Vraic wander warm wealth wild wind wing worm young
Popular passages
Page 70 - Ye skim where the stream parts the orcharddecked land, Ye dance where the foam sweeps the desolate strand. Beautiful birds ! ye come thickly around, When the bud's on the branch, and the snow's on the ground ; Ye come, when the richest of roses flush out, And ye come when the yellow leaf eddies about.
Page 11 - Does he covet the bow on my back ? He has rivers and seas, where the billows and breeze Bear riches for him alone ; And the sons of the wood never plunge in the flood Which the white man calls his own. Why, then, should he come to the streams where none But the red-skin dare to swim ? Why, why should he wrong the hunter one, Who never did harm to him...
Page 217 - That waited on the lisping girl and petticoated boy ? I know that ye could win my heart when every bribe or threat Failed to allay my stamping rage, or break my sullen pet. A " promised story" was enough — I turned, with eager smile, To learn about the naughty " pig that would not mount the stile." There was a spot in days of yore whereon I used to stand, With mighty question in my head, and penny in my hand ; Where motley sweets and crinkled cakes made up a goodly show ; And " story books," upon...
Page 129 - THE ROOK SITS HIGH. THE Rook sits high when the blast sweeps by, Right pleased with his wild see-saw ; And though hollow and bleak be the fierce wind's shriek It is mocked by his loud caw-caw. "What careth he for the bloom-robed tree, Or the rose so sweet and fair ; He loves not the sheen of the spring-time green, Any more than the branches bare, Oh ! the merriest bird the woods e'er saw Is the sable Rook with his loud caw-caw. Winter may fling crystal chains on the wing Of the fieldfare...
Page 74 - With the red bolt of Death, and the olive of Love : The fountain of friendship is never complete, Till ye coo o'er its waters so sparkling and sweet; And where is the hand that would dare to divide Even Wisdom's grave self from the owl by her side ? Beautiful creatures of freedom and light ! Oh ! where is the eye that groweth not bright As it watches you trimming your soft glossy coats, Swelling your bosoms, and ruffling your throats ? Oh ! I would not ask, as the old ditties sing, To be ' happy...
Page 14 - When we feed the gentle robin, and caress the leaping hound, And linger latest on the spot where buttercups are found ; When we seek the bee and ladybird with laughter, shout, and song, And think the day for wooing them can never be too long : Oh ! 'tis sweet to love in Childhood, and though touched by meanest things, The music that the heart yields then will never leave its strings.
Page 123 - SONG OF THE OSTRICH. THE minstrel ever loves to sing Of the beautiful gloss of the raven's wing ; He tells of beauty, and seeks to compare The pinion of jet with the maiden's hair. The swan has a bright and goodly place For its spotless down and stately grace ; And bards unnumbered have praised the dove, For its gentle faith and eye of love. 250 SONG OF THE OSTRICH.
Page 155 - While the cunning old team-horses manage to pick A sweet mouthful to munch as they go. The tawny-faced children come round us to play, And bravely they scatter the heap ; Till the tiniest one, all outspent -with the fun, Is curled up with the sheep-dog, asleep. Old age sitteth down on the haycock's fair crown, At the close of our labouring day ; And wishes his life, like the grass at his feet, May be pure at its
Page 74 - happy as sand-boy" or " happy as king;" For the joy is more blissful that bids me declare, " I'm as happy as all the wild birds in the air." I will tell them to find me a grave when I die, Where no marble will shut out the glorious sky ; Let them give me a tomb where the daisy will bloom, Where the moon will shine down, and the leveret...
Page 178 - ... been so round ? Oh, I am Queen with a despot rule, That crushes to the dust; The laws I deal, bear no appeal, Though ruthless and unjust. I deaden the bosom and darken the brain, With the might of the demon's skill ; The heart may struggle, but struggle in vain, As I grapple it harder still. Oh, come with me, and ye shall see How well I begin the day, For I'll hie to the hungriest slave I have, And snatch his loaf away. Oh, come with me, and ye shall see How my skeleton victims fall ; How I order...