Scotish Songs, Volume 1

Front Cover
Joseph Ritson
Hugh Hopkins, 1869 - Ballads, English - 575 pages

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Page 88 - Anon they move In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood Of flutes and soft recorders...
Page 160 - I'll call a synod in my heart, And never love thee more. As Alexander I will reign, And I will reign alone ; My thoughts did evermore disdain A rival on my throne. He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch, To gain or lose it all.
Page 144 - For ever, Fortune, wilt thou prove An unrelenting foe to Love, And when we meet a mutual heart Come in between, and bid us part ? Bid us sigh on from day to day, And wish and wish the soul away ; Till youth and genial years are flown, And all the life of life is gone ? But busy, busy, still art thou, To bind the loveless joyless vow, The heart from pleasure to delude, To join the gentle to the rude.
Page 59 - Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs Of mighty Cherubim ; the sudden blaze Far round illumined Hell. Highly they raged Against the Highest, and fierce with grasped arms Clashed on their sounding shields the din of war, Hurling defiance toward the vault of Heaven.
Page 219 - They gi'ed him my hand, though my heart was in the sea; Sae auld Robin Gray he was gudeman to me. I hadna been a wife a week but only four, When mournfu...
Page 142 - Invite the tuneful birds to sing ; And while they warble from each spray, Love melts the universal lay. Let us, Amanda, timely wise, Like them improve the hour that flies, And in soft raptures waste the day Among the birks of Invermay.
Page 236 - Or wherefore should I kame my hair? For my true love has me forsook, And says he'll never love me mair.
Page 231 - He was in these to meet his ruin. The boy took out his milk-white milk-white steed, Unheedful of my dule and sorrow; But ere the toofal of the night He lay a corpse on the Braes of Yarrow.
Page 232 - But who the expected husband, husband is? His hands, methinks, are bathed in slaughter. Ah me! what ghastly spectre's yon, Comes, in his pale shroud, bleeding after? "Pale as he is, here lay him, lay him down; O lay his cold head on my pillow : Take off, take off these bridal weeds, And crown my careful head with willow.
Page 219 - Rob maintain'd them baith, and wi* tears in his e'e Said, Jennie, for their sakes, O, marry me! My heart it said nay ; I look'd for Jamie back ; But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a wrack; His ship it was a wrack — why didna Jamie dee?

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