The Works of Professor Wilson of the University of Edinburgh: Essays critical and imaginative

Voorkant
W. Blackwood, 1865
 

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Pagina 341 - Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony.
Pagina 310 - Ye ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain— Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge! Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet?— God! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, God!
Pagina 335 - The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin; The guests are met, the feast is set: May'st hear the merry din.
Pagina 298 - Though I should gaze for ever On that green light that lingers in the west: I may not hope from outward forms to win The passion and the life, whose fountains are within.
Pagina 33 - Compared with this, how poor religion's pride, In all the pomp of method, and of art, When men display to congregations wide Devotion's every grace, except the heart!
Pagina 342 - Beyond the shadow of the ship, I watched the water-snakes: They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire.
Pagina 340 - With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, We could nor laugh nor wail; Through utter drought all dumb we stood! I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, And cried, A sail ! a sail...
Pagina 125 - Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams, return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues. Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks, Throw hither all your quaint...
Pagina 15 - Ye banks and braes and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie ! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry ; For there I took the last fareweel O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie ; For dear to me as light and life Was my...
Pagina 32 - They chant their artless notes in simple guise, They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim ; Perhaps ' Dundee's' wild warbling measures rise, Or plaintive

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