The Poetical Works of Hector Macneill, Esq, Volume 2

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T.N. Longman and O. Rees, 1801 - English poetry

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Page 67 - Guard your treasures wi' lock, bar, and door, While here in my arms I lock mine!" He ends wi' a kiss and a smile — Wae's me! can I tak' it amiss? My laddie's unpractised in guile, He's free aye to daut and to! Ye lasses wha lo'e to torment Your wooers wi...
Page 42 - His cheek's like the new rose, his brow's like the snaw.' ' Dear Marion, let that flee stick fast to the wa' ; Your Jock's but a gowk, and has naething ava; The hale o' his pack he has now on his back: He's thretty, and I am but threescore and twa.
Page 153 - The fig-tree, not that kind for fruit renown'd, But such as, at this day, to Indians known; In Malabar or Decan spreads her arms, Branching so broad and long, that in the ground The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow About the mother tree, a pillar'd shade, High overarch'd, and echoing walks between...
Page 42 - The haill o' his pack he has now on his back ; He's thretty, and I am but three-score and twa. Be frank now and kindly — I'll busk ye aye finely ; To kirk or to market there few gang sae braw ; A bien house to 'bide in, a chaise for to ride in, And flunkies to 'tend ye as aft as ye ca'.
Page 66 - I listen — poor fool ! and I greet ; Yet how sweet are the tears as they fa' ! Dear lassie, he cries wi...
Page 41 - ... night's gaun to fa'; Come in frae the cauld blast, the drift, and the snaw: Come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me, There's room in't, dear lassie, believe me, for twa.
Page 43 - I'll creep in beside ye, I thocht ye'd been aulder than threescore and twa.' She crap in ayont him, aside the stane wa'. Where Johnnie was list'ning, and heard her tell a'; The day was appointed : his proud heart it dunted, And strack 'gainst his side as if bursting in twa.
Page 83 - Whar hae ye been a' day, My boy Tammy ? I've been by burn and flow'ry brae, Meadow green and mountain gray, Courting o' this young thing Just come frae her mammy.
Page 42 - I'll hap ye frae every cauld blast that can blaw: Oh, come under my plaidie, and sit down beside me! There's room in't, dear lassie, believe me, for twa." "Gae 'wa wi' your plaidie, auld Donald, gae 'wa! I fearna the cauld blast, the drift, nor the snaw: Gae 'wa wi' your plaidie; I'll no sit beside ye, Ye may be my gutcher; auld Donald, gae 'wa.
Page 85 - She's been my comfort a' my days :— My father's death brought mony waes— I canna leave my mammy.' ' We'll tak her hame and mak her fain, My ain kind-hearted Lammie ! We'll gie her meat, we'll gie her claise. We'll be her comfort a

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