Poetical works. With illustr

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Page 39 - O 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.
Page 85 - One touch to her hand and one word in her ear, When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near ; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung ! 'She is won ! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur ; They'll have fleet steeds that follow,
Page 85 - So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace ; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume ; And the bridemaidens whispered, "Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.
Page 139 - Have, then, thy wish!"— he whistled shrill, And he was answered from the hill ; Wild as the scream of the curlew From crag to crag the signal flew. Instant, through copse and heath, arose Bonnets and spears and bended bows ; On right, on left, above, below, Sprung up at once the lurking foe...
Page 101 - O, woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made ; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou...
Page 126 - He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font reappearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes 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.
Page 24 - In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed; In war, he mounts the warrior's steed; In halls, in gay attire is seen; In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above ; For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
Page 348 - Waken, lords and ladies gay, The mist has left the mountain grey, Springlets in the dawn are steaming, Diamonds on the brake are gleaming : And foresters have busy been, To track the buck in thicket green ; Now we come to chant our lay,
Page 247 - tis the Changeling) gave — "Dost thou not rest thee on my arm? Do not my plaid-folds hold thee warm ? Hath not the wild bull's treble hide This targe for thee and me supplied? Is not Clan-Colla's sword of steel ? And, trembler, canst .thou terror feel ? Cheer thee, and still that throbbing heart; From Ronald's guard thou shalt not part.
Page 361 - PIBROCH of Donuil Dhu, Pibroch of Donuil, Wake thy wild voice anew, Summon Clan Conuil. 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.

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