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82 TONE-POETRY OF ROBERT BURNS |
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No. 85. Sensibility how charming. |
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Sensibility how charming,
Dearest Nancy, thou canst tell; But distress with horrors arming,
Thou alas ! hast known too well! Fairest flower, behold the lily \
Blooming in the sunny ray: I ..
Let the blast sweep o'er the valley, f
See it prostrate in the clay. '
Hear the woodlark charm the forest,
Telling o'er his little joys ; But alas! a prey the surest
To each pirate of the skies. Dearly bought the hidden treasure \
Finer feelings can bestow: (,.
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure J
Thrill the deepest notes of woe " |
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No. 86. From the white-blossom o' sloe.
(Tune unknown.) From the white-blossom'd sloe my dear Chloris requested
A sprig, her fair breast to adorn : 'No, by Heaven!'—I exclaim'd—'let me perish for ever,
Ere I plant in that bosom a thorn !' |
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