The Scottish Minstrel: The Songs of Scotland Subsequent to Burns, with Memoirs of the PoetsW.P. Nimmo, 1885 - 507 sider |
Indhold
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Andre udgaver - Se alle
Almindelige termer og sætninger
Allan Cunningham amang auld bairn ballad beauty became Bennachie Blackwood's Magazine blaw bloom blue blythe bonnie Peggy born bosom bower braes brave bright burn Caledonia canna cauld dear duodecimo e'en early Edinburgh entitled Ettrick fair Farewell father flowers frae gane gang gi'e Glasgow glen gloamin gloaming green ha'e hame heart heather heaven Hielan Highland hills hour ilka Jamie John John Tod laddie land lass lassie Lilliesleaf literary lo'e maid Mary maun morning mountain native ne'er never night o'er owre Paisley parish plaid poems poet poetical poetry published rose Roxburghshire sang scenes Scotland Scottish Shepherd sigh sing Sir Walter Scott sleep smile song sorrow stream summer sweet tears thee There's thou Twas University of Edinburgh vale verses volume wander wave weary weel wild winds young youth
Populære passager
Side 2 - A man he was to all the country dear, And passing rich with forty pounds a year; Remote from towns he ran his godly race, Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place.
Side 160 - Tis morn ; but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave! Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry!
Side 73 - The bride kissed the goblet, the knight took it up ; He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand ere her mother could bar ; " Now tread we a measure !
Side 74 - Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done ; While our slumbrous spells assail ye, Dream not, with the rising sun, Bugles here shall sound reveille. Sleep ! the deer is in his den ; Sleep ! thy hounds are by thee lying ; Sleep ! nor dream in yonder glen, How thy gallant steed lay dying. Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done, Think not of the rising sun, For at dawning to assail ye, Here no bugles sound reveille.
Side 160 - I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, And this, Lord Ullin's daughter. 'And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together, For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather. 'His horsemen hard behind us ride — Should they our steps discover, Then who will cheer my bonny bride When they have slain her lover?
Side 158 - OF Nelson and the North Sing the glorious day's renown, When to battle fierce came forth All the might of Denmark's crown, And her arms along the deep proudly shone; By each gun the lighted brand In a bold determined hand, And the Prince of all the land Led them on.
Side 75 - ... no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest. Fleet foot on the correi...
Side 73 - Oh ! young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best ; And save his good broadsword he weapons had none, He rode all unarmed and he rode all alone. So faithful in love and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
Side 74 - Come away, come away, Hark to the summons ! Come in your war array, Gentles and Commons ! Come from deep glen, and From mountain so rocky ; The war-pipe and pennon Are at Inverlochy. Come every hill-plaid, and True heart that wears one ; Come every steel blade, and Strong hand that bears one ! Leave untended the herd, The flock without shelter ; Leave the corpse uninterr'd, The bride at the altar.
Side 160 - ON Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly.