The Leading Poets of Scotland: From Early Times

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Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent & Company, 1891 - 314 pages
 

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Page 117 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Page 271 - 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 bride-maidens whispered, " Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.
Page 105 - They chant their artless notes in simple guise; They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim : Perhaps ' Dundee's ' wild warbling measures rise, Or plaintive *• Martyrs...
Page 103 - But hark ! a rap comes gently to the door ; Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neebor lad cam' o'er the moor, To do some errands, and convoy her hame. The wily mother sees the conscious flame Sparkle in Jenny's e'e, and flush her cheek...
Page 107 - ... bosom sunward spread, Thou lifts thy unassuming head In humble guise ; But now the share uptears thy bed, And low thou lies ! Such is the fate of artless maid, Sweet flow'ret of the rural shade ! By love's simplicity betray'd, And guileless trust, Till she, like thee, all soil'd is laid Low i
Page 271 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see.
Page 275 - But, present, still though now unseen, When brightly shines the prosperous day! Be thoughts of Thee a cloudy screen, To temper the deceitful ray. And O, when stoops on Judah's path In shade and storm the frequent night. Be Thou, long-suffering, slow to wrath, A burning and a shining light!
Page 270 - O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best ; And save his good broad-sword he weapons had none, He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone.
Page 104 - The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride. His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare ; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care ; And " Let us worship God !
Page 115 - I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, And this Lord Ullin's daughter. — And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together, For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather. His horsemen hard behind us ride ; Should they our steps discover...

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