The pocket encyclopedia of Scottish, English, and Irish songs, selected from the works of the most eminent poets; with original pieces, and notes, Volume 2

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Page 151 - India's coast we sail, Thy eyes are seen in diamonds bright; Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale. Thy skin is ivory so white. Thus every beauteous object that I view, Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue.
Page 269 - I'll wage thee ! Who shall say that Fortune grieves him While the star of hope she leaves him ? Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me, Dark despair around benights me. I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy ; Naething could resist my Nancy ; But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love for ever.
Page 282 - And You, farewell ! whose merits claim Justly, that highest badge to wear ! Heav'n bless your honor'd, noble name To Masonry and Scotia dear! A last request permit me here, When yearly ye assemble a', One round, I ask it with a tear, To him, the Bard that's far awa'.
Page 150 - So the sweet lark, high poised in air. Shuts close his pinions to his breast (If, chance, his mate's shrill call he hear), And drops at once into her nest.
Page 151 - O Susan, Susan, lovely dear, My vows shall ever true remain; Let me kiss off that falling tear; We only part to meet again. Change as ye list, ye winds; my heart shall be The faithful compass that still points to thee.
Page 279 - Where shall the traitor rest, He, the deceiver, Who could win maiden's breast, Ruin, and leave her? In the lost battle, Borne down by the flying, Where mingles war's rattle With groans of the dying; Eleu loro There shall he be lying.
Page 176 - Sad is my fate! said the heart-broken stranger; The wild deer and wolf to a covert can flee, But I have no refuge from famine and danger, A home and a country remain not to me.
Page 71 - She quells the floods below, As they roar on the shore When the stormy winds do blow ; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Page 61 - FAREWELL to the Land, where the gloom of my Glory Arose and o'ershadow'd the earth with her name— She abandons me now — but the page of her story, The brightest or blackest, is fill'd with my fame.
Page 106 - While o'er the ship wild waves are beating, We for wives or children mourn : Alas ! from hence there's no retreating, Alas ! to them there's no return. Still the leak is gaining on us : Both chain-pumps are choak'd below.

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