The Songs of Scotland Chronologically Arranged: With Introduction and NotesAlison & Ross, 1872 - 583 sider |
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Side xvii
... syne The midges dance aboon the burn The moon had climbed the highest hill ... ... ... ... ... The moon's on the lake , and the mist's on the brac The moon was fair , saft was the air The murmur of the merry brook The news frae Moidart ...
... syne The midges dance aboon the burn The moon had climbed the highest hill ... ... ... ... ... The moon's on the lake , and the mist's on the brac The moon was fair , saft was the air The murmur of the merry brook The news frae Moidart ...
Side xxxiii
... Syne gaid to gidder bayth Jynny and Jok . 1 Ascribed in the MS . to Fleming , a poet , of whom nothing is known . 2 By Robert Henryson , Schoolmaster of Dunfermline . This fine ballad is printed in Mr. Laing's valuable edition of ...
... Syne gaid to gidder bayth Jynny and Jok . 1 Ascribed in the MS . to Fleming , a poet , of whom nothing is known . 2 By Robert Henryson , Schoolmaster of Dunfermline . This fine ballad is printed in Mr. Laing's valuable edition of ...
Side xl
... Syne , attributed to Ayton ; several pieces by the Marquis of Montrose , etc. 1 A complete list of the scraps in this cantus will be found in the introduction to Mr. Chambers's Scotish Songs , 1829 , vol . i . The first of our ...
... Syne , attributed to Ayton ; several pieces by the Marquis of Montrose , etc. 1 A complete list of the scraps in this cantus will be found in the introduction to Mr. Chambers's Scotish Songs , 1829 , vol . i . The first of our ...
Side 2
... Syne to the servant's bed she gaes , To speer for the silly poor man . She gaed to the bed where the beggar lay , The strae was cauld , he was away , She clapt her hands , cry'd , Waladay ! For some of our gear will be gane . Some ran ...
... Syne to the servant's bed she gaes , To speer for the silly poor man . She gaed to the bed where the beggar lay , The strae was cauld , he was away , She clapt her hands , cry'd , Waladay ! For some of our gear will be gane . Some ran ...
Side 10
... Syne ran to her dady , and tell'd him this , With a fal , dal , & c . Your doughter wad na say me na , But to yoursell she has left it a ' , As we cou'd gree between us twa ; Say what'll ye gi ' me wi ' her ? Now , wooer , quo ' he , I ...
... Syne ran to her dady , and tell'd him this , With a fal , dal , & c . Your doughter wad na say me na , But to yoursell she has left it a ' , As we cou'd gree between us twa ; Say what'll ye gi ' me wi ' her ? Now , wooer , quo ' he , I ...
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The Songs of Scotland: Chronologically Arranged, with Introduction and Notes Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1893 |
The Songs of Scotland Chronologically Arranged: With Introduction and ... Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1871 |
The Songs of Scotland: Chronologically Arranged with Introduction and Notes Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1871 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
aboon ALLAN CUNNINGHAM ALLAN RAMSAY amang auld bairns baith bawbee blaw blythe bonnet bonnie lassie bosom braes braw canna cauld Charlie charms dear dinna Donald e'en e'er Edinburgh fair Farewell flowers frae gane gang gear Geordie gi'e glen green gude gudeman ha'e hame heart HERD'S COLLECTION Highland laddie hills ilka JAMES HOGG Jamie Jenny John Tod Johnnie Johnnie Cope king kiss lady laird lass lo'e luve Maggie Mary maun mither mony morning nae mair naething nane ne'er never night o'er ower owre plaid Rob Roy Macgregor ROBERT BURNS ROBERT TANNAHILL sang Scotland Scottish siller sing smile song sweet syne tears thee There's thine thou wadna weel Whigs wife WILLIAM MOTHERWELL Willie winna Yarrow ye'll ye're yestreen young
Populære avsnitt
Side 446 - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for a soft and gentle wind!
Side 388 - Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking; Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest l thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more: Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
Side 238 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha for Scotland's king and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand, or freeman fa?
Side 205 - O'erhung with wild woods, thickening, green, The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar, Twin'd amorous round the raptured scene. " The flowers sprang wanton to be prest, The birds sang love on every spray, Till too, too soon, the glowing west Proclaim'd the speed of winged day!
Side 386 - 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.
Side 209 - And mony a hill between ; But, day and night, my fancy's flight Is ever wi' my Jean. I see her in the dewy flowers, I see her sweet and fair : I hear her in the tunefu...
Side 237 - THAT AND A' THAT" Is there, for honest Poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that! The coward slave, we pass him by, We dare be poor for a
Side 21 - I'll never love thee more. Like 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, That dares not put it to the touch To win or lose it all.
Side 212 - I'll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee. Who shall say that fortune grieves him While the star of hope she leaves him ? Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me, Dark despair around benights me. I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy, Naething could resist my Nancy ; But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love for ever. Had we never lov'd sae kindly, Had we never lov'd sae blindly, Never met — or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
Side 387 - A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine ! To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, And press the rue for wine! A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A feather of the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green, — No more of me you knew, My love!