Stand fast, Craig-Royston!

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Low, Marston, 1894 - 408 pages

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Page 254 - Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice; Him serve with fear, his praise forth tell, Come ye before him and rejoice. 2 The Lord, ye know, is God indeed, Without our aid he did us make ; We are his flock, he doth us feed, And for his sheep he doth us take. 3 O enter then his gates with praise, Approach with joy his courts unto; Praise, laud, and bless his name always, For it is seemly so to do. 4 For why? the Lord our God is good, His mercy is for ever sure; His truth at all times firmly stood, And shall...
Page 161 - Alas ! they had been friends in youth ; But whispering tongues can poison truth ; And constancy lives in realms above ; And life is thorny ; and youth is rain ; And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain.
Page 11 - Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John, I'm wearin' awa' To the land o' the leal. There's nae sorrow there, John, There's neither cauld nor care, John, The day is aye fair In the land o' the leal. Our bonnie bairn's there, John, She was baith gude and fair, John, And oh ! we grudged her sair To the land o
Page 77 - That man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of lona.
Page 178 - O yon is the mountain of hell,' he cried, 'Where you and I will go.' And aye when she turn'd her round about, Aye taller he seemed for to be; Until that the tops o' that gallant ship Nae taller were than he.
Page 187 - Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry, But my Love's heart grown cauld to me. When we came in by Glasgow town We were a comely sight to see; My Love was clad in the black velvet, And I mysell in cramasie.
Page 78 - I see — but not by sight alone, Loved Yarrow, have I won thee; A ray of fancy still survives — Her sunshine plays upon thee!
Page 405 - God is our refuge and our strength, In straits a present aid ; Therefore, although the earth remove, We will not be afraid ; Though hills amidst the seas be cast ; Though waters roaring make, And troubled be ; yea though the hills By swelling seas do shake.
Page 188 - O gin her skin was white ! * I might hae spared that bonnie face To hae been some man's delight.' •Busk and boun, my merry men a', For ill dooms I do guess ; — 1 cannot look on that bonnie face As it lies on the grass.
Page 88 - This England never did, (nor never shall,) Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, Come the three corners of the world in arms, And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, If England to itself do rest but true.

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