The tender thrill, the pitying tear,
The generous purpose, nobly dear,
The gentle look that rage disarms:
These are all immortal charms.
There are some other thrilling notes in Burns' songs, which, though tinted somewhat beyond general approval, fail not to find the sequestered corners of the heart, which subscribes to that axiom,—"To the pure all things are pure." There are many songs, evincing his belief in the sympathies; for instance, in that song, "Farewell, thou Stream," he says of Eliza:—
The music of thy voice I heard,
Nor wist while it enslav'd me;
I saw thine eyes, yet nothing fear'd,
Till fears no more had sav'd me:
Th' unwary sailor thus aghast,
The wheeling torrent viewing;
'Mid bubbling circles sinks at last
In overwhelming ruin.
Who can forget those words in a ballad—
Sae sweetly move her genty limbs,
Like music's notes o'er lovely hymns,
The diamond dye in her een sae blue,
Where laughing love sae wantin swims.
Again, in the ballad "Adown winding Nith," he speaks of the brilliancy of the eye:—
Yon knot of gay flowers in the arbour,
They ne'er wi' my Phillis can vie:
Her breath is the breath o' the woodbine,
Its dew-drop o' diamond, her eye.
In the Vita Nuova of Dante, he declares the eyes most show the state of the mind. The 18th Sonnet contains these words, addressed to one of the idealities of his impassioned soul:—
I then perceived that you were pondering
