A Book of Highland Minstrelsy

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G.W. Nickisson, 1846 - Highlands (Scotland) - 272 pages
 

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Page 81 - AS long as life its term extends, •*-*• Hope's blest dominion never ends ; For while the lamp holds on to burn, The greatest sinner may return.
Page 145 - Thy faith and troth thou sail na get, And our true love shall never twin, Until ye tell what comes of women, I wot, who die in strong traivelling ?' •Their beds are made in the heavens high, Down at the foot of our good lord's knee, Weel set about wi' gillyflowers : I wot sweet company for to see.
Page 86 - Rock of Alarm." Upon the approach of an enemy, the signal was given from the one to the other, for all fit to bear arms to appear at an appointed place. Hence the Grants motto, " Stand fast,
Page 51 - Of that old haunted room, A fleshless hand that knocketh, A wail that cries on thee ; And rattling limbs that struggle To break out and be free. It is a thought of horror ! — I would not sleep alone In the haunted rooms of Urrard, Where evil deeds were done.
Page 4 - Scotland — ye who perished for your king, In the misty wreaths before me I can see your tartans swing ; I can hear your slogan, comrades, who to Saxon never knelt ; Oh ! that I had died among ye with the fortunes of...
Page 5 - With a sigh he took the blossom, and he strode unto the strand, Where his Danish crew awaited with a motley fisher band ; Brief the parley, swift his sailing with the tide, and ne'er again Saw the Moray Firth the stranger or the schooner of the Dane.
Page 235 - Ms chieftains by closer ties than those of relationship. Indignant at the kinsman's apathy, he went from house to house, and from castle to castle, calling for vengeance on the assassins. After many fruitless attempts, he at last obtained from government a commission to take the murderers, dead or alive, and from Sir James Macdomild of Slcat, a body of men sufficient to execute the commission.
Page 186 - And bluid fa' doon thegither ; Ye shanna hear the coronach Upon the blasted heather.' Wi' that she let me gae, Jeanie, I fell in deepest swound, And when I waked the sun was high, And weet wi
Page 158 - Heaven and earth their hues confound, Scattering rainbows on the ground ; Life with rapture is replete While I spin my winding-sheet ! Summer's voice is loud and clear, Lowing kine and rippling swell ; Yet, beneath it all I hear Something of a funeral knell. Sings the linnet on the bough, Sings my bridegroom at the plough, Whirrs the grouse along the brake, Plash the trout within the lake, Soft the merry lambkins bleat While I spin my winding-sheet ! Thatched with mosses green and red, Blooming as...
Page 183 - Lay whimperin' in its bed ; A' hapt about wi' sloes and fern, Wi' rowans arch'd o'erhead. It was an eerie place by day, An eerier place by nicnt ; The Drumlie Linn, sue chilly gray, Was never glad wi' licht. Now while she look'd, and while she list, On yon hayfield abune, A cauld wind took her ere she wist, A cloud o'erlap the moon. And frae the burn a sound arose, O' waefu' water wraith, Like widow mournin' in her woes, Or captive in his death.

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