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" How blythely wad I bide the stoure, A weary slave frae sun to sun, Could I the rich reward secure, The lovely Mary Morison. Yestreen when to the trembling string The dance gaed thro... "
Select Works of the British Poets: In a Chronological Series from Falconer ... - Страница 227
написао/ла John Aikin - 1838 - 732 страница
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Red-letter Poems by English Men and Women

Thomas Young Crowell - 1885 - 648 страница
...! Those smiles and glances let me see That make the miser's treasure poor: How blythely wad I bide the stoure, A weary slave frae sun to sun, Could I the rich reward secure, The lovely Mary Morison. I sat, hut neither heard nor saw; I Tho' this was fair, and that was braw, And yon the toast of a'...
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The Royal Gallery of Poetry and Art: An Illustrated Book of the Favorite ...

Nathan David Thompson - 1886 - 19 страница
...our old loves — God bless our loving wives! MART MORISON. MARY, at thy window be! It is the wished, the trysted hour! Those smiles and glances let me...make the miser's treasure poor; How blithely wad I bide the stoure, A weary slave frae sun to sun, Could I the rich reward secure — The lovely Mary...
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The Poetical Works of Robert Burns, Том 1

Robert Burns - 1887 - 362 страница
...The hour, and the moment o' time ! MARY MORISON. TUNE — ' BIDE YE YET.' O MARY, at thy window lie, It is the wish'd, the trysted hour ! Those smiles...make the miser's treasure poor ; How blithely wad I bide the stoure, A weary slave frae sun to sun ; Could I the rich reward secure, The lovely Mary Morison....
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The English Poets: Addison to Blake

Thomas Humphry Ward - 1889
...Those smiles and glances let me see, That make the miser's treasure poor ; How blithely wad I bide the stoure', A weary slave frae sun to sun ; Could...Yestreen, when to the trembling string The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha', To thee my fancy took its wing, I sat, but neither heard nor saw ; Tho' this...
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Burns

Robert Burns - 1889 - 292 страница
...witchin' love — That charm that can the strongest quell, The sternest move. SONGS. Mary Morison, MARY, at thy window be— It is the wish'd, the trysted...let me see, That make the miser's treasure poor. How blythely wad I bide the stoure, 5 A weary slave frae sun to sun, Could I the rich reward secure —...
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Burns

Robert Burns - 1889 - 292 страница
...witchin' love — That charm that can the strongest quell, SONGS. Mary Morison. OMARY, at thy window belt is the wish'd, the trysted hour ! Those smiles and...let me see, That make the miser's treasure poor. How blythely wad I bide the stoure, 5 A weary slave frae sun to sun, Could I the rich reward secure —...
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The Golden Treasury of the Best Songs and Lyrical Poems in the English Language

1890 - 448 страница
...alike in trembling hope repose,) The bosom of his Father and his God. T. Gray CLXXIX flborteon 0 Mary, at thy window be, It is the wish'd, the trysted hour...make the miser's treasure poor : How blithely wad I bide the stoure, A weary slave frae sun to sun, Could I the rich reward secure, The lovely Mary Morison....
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The Complete Works of Robert Burns

Robert Burns - 1884 - 636 страница
...and glances let me see, That makes the miser's treasure poor ; How blylhely wad I bide the stouie, A weary slave frae sun to sun ; Could I the rich reward...Yestreen, when to the trembling string The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha', To thee my fancy took its wing, I sat, but neither heard or saw : Tho' this...
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Songs of Three Centuries

John Greenleaf Whittier - 1890 - 383 страница
...Those smiles and glances let me see, That make the miser's treasure poor : How blithely wad I bide the stoure, A weary slave frae sun to sun, Could I...Morison. Yestreen when to the trembling string The dancegaed through the lighted ha', To thee my fancy took its wing, I sat, but neither heard nor saw....
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Songs & Poems of Robert Burns

Ralph Knight - 1959 - 240 страница
...tempo ?^ r * cresc. rit. p I the rich_re - ward se-cure The love-ly Ma - ry Mor - 1 - son. O Mary, at thy window be! It is the wish'd, the trysted hour....let me see, That make the miser's treasure poor. How blythely wad I bide the stoure, A weary slave frae sun to sun, Could I the rich reward secure— The...
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