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Side 165 - There lived a wife at Usher's Well, And a wealthy wife was she; She had three stout and stalwart sons, And sent them oer the sea. They hadna been a week from her, « A week but barely ane, When word came to the carline wife That her three sons were gane.
Side 195 - O no, O no, Thomas," she said, That name does not belang to me ; I am but the queen of fair Elfland, That am hither come to visit thee.
Side 46 - Now, ever alake ! my master dear, I fear a deadly storm ! " I saw the new moon late yestreen, Wi' the auld moon in her arm ; And if we gang to sea, master, I fear we'll come to harm.
Side 166 - Blow up the fire, my maidens! Bring water from the well! For a' my house shall feast this night, Since my three sons are well.
Side 325 - When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die ; When distant Tweed is heard to rave, And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave, Then go— but go alone the while — Then view St. David's ruined pile ; And, home' returning, soothly swear, Was never scene so sad and fair ! II.
Side 46 - To take the helm in hand, Till you go up to the tall topmast, But I fear you'll ne'er spy land.
Side 329 - Tis said, as through the aisles they pass'd, They heard strange noises on the blast ; And through the cloister-galleries small, Which at mid-height thread the chancel wall Loud sobs, and laughter louder, ran, And voices unlike the voice of man; As if the fiends kept holiday, Because these spells were brought to day. I cannot tell how the truth may be : I say the tale as 'twas said to me.
Side 347 - Caledonia ! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child ! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood, Land of my sires ! what mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band, That knits me to thy rugged strand ! Still, as I view each well-known scene, Think what is now, and what hath been, Seems as, to me, of all bereft, Sole friends thy woods and streams were left ; And thus I love them better still, Even in extremity of ill.