History of Newport and the Parish of Forgan, and Rambles Around the District

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W. & D.C. Thomson, 1890 - Newport-on-Tay (Scotland) - 256 pages

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Page 91 - Now that he ascended, what is it but that he also descended first into the lower parts of the earth ? He that descended is the same also that ascended up far above all heavens, that he might fill all things.
Page 143 - Oh dream of joy! is this indeed The lighthouse top I see? Is this the hill? is this the kirk? Is this mine own countree? We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, And I with sobs did pray— 'O let me be awake, my God! Or let me sleep alway.
Page 44 - The wall must be crumbled, the stone decayed, To pleasure his dainty whim; And the mouldering dust that years have made, Is a merry meal for him. Creeping where no life is seen, A rare old plant is the Ivy green. Fast he stealeth on, though he wears no wings, And a...
Page 44 - Oh, a dainty plant is the Ivy green, That creepeth o'er ruins old ! Of right choice food are his meals, I ween, In his cell so lone and cold. The wall must be crumbled, the stone decayed, To pleasure his dainty whim : And the mouldering dust that years have made, Is a merry meal for him.
Page 203 - The best laid schemes o' mice and men Gang aft a-gley, And lea'e us nought but grief and pain, For promised joy. Still thou art blest, compared wi
Page 174 - Beneath a mountain's brow, the most remote And inaccessible by shepherds trod, In a deep cave, dug by no mortal hand, A hermit lived ; a melancholy man...
Page 191 - Practis'd by him, each virtue grew more bright, And shone with more than its own native light. Whatever noble warmth could recommend The just, the active, and the constant friend Was all his own — but oh!
Page 191 - In what soft language shall my thoughts get free, My dear Alexis, when I talk of thee ? Ye Muses, Graces, all ye gentle train Of weeping loves, assist the pensive strain. But why should I implore your moving art ? 'Tis but to speak the dictates of my heart ; And all that knew the charming youth will join Their friendly sighs and pious tears to mine ; For all who knew his merit must confess In grief for him there can be no excess.
Page 54 - A fishin' minister ! And so discreet In all his ministrations ! But he's young — Maybe this shred of wickedness has clung This lang aboot him, as a warning sign That he should never touch your bairn and mine — We'll just haud north to Forgan manse, and get Auld Doctor Maule — in every way most fit — To consecrate the wean.
Page 208 - Putting on his spectacles, and taking a paper out of his pocket, he read it with an audible voice, and then delivering it to the sheriff, called for the executioner, who appearing, and being about to ask his lordship's pardon, he interrupted him with " Friend, you need not ask my forgiveness, the execution of your duty is commendable," and gave him three guineas, saying, "Friend, I never was rich, this is all the money I have now, and I am sorry I can add nothing to it but my coat and waistcoat,"...

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