The Book of Scottish Ballads: A Comprehensive Collection of the Most Approved Ballads of Scotland, Ancient and Modern

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Alexander Whitelaw
Blackie, 1875 - Всего страниц: 576
 

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Стр. 66 - I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied; Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide; And now am I come with this lost love of mine To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.
Стр. 182 - Blow up the fire, my maidens, Bring water from the well; For a' my house shall feast this night, Since my three sons are well.
Стр. 182 - She's made it large and wide, And she's ta'en her mantle her about, Sat down at the bed-side. Up then crew the red, red cock And up and crew the gray; The eldest to the youngest said, 'Tis time we were away.
Стр. 369 - They shouted a' baith loud and hie, Till up and spak him auld Buccleuch, Said — 'Whae's this brings the fraye to me?' 'It's I, Jamie Telfer o' the fair Dodhead, And a harried man I think I be!
Стр. 70 - And out and spake the sixth o' them, "It were shame to slay a sleeping man!" Then up and gat the seventh o' them, And never a word spake he; But he has striped his bright brown brand Out through Clerk Saunders
Стр. 509 - It shone on my little boy's bonnie cheeks, And his loose locks of yellow. The robin was singing sweetly, And his song was sad and tender ; And my little boy's eyes, while he heard the song, Smiled with a sweet, soft splendor.
Стр. 451 - The paying the kane to hell ; ' or, according to some recitations, ' the teind,' or tenth. This is the popular reason, assigned for the desire of the fairies to abstract young children as substitutes for themselves in this dreadful tribute.
Стр. 70 - O, cocks are crowing a merry midnight, I wot the wild fowls are boding day ; Give me my faith and troth again, And let me fare me on my way.
Стр. 493 - Local tradition, however, more faithful to the popular sentiment than history, has recorded the character of their chief, and attributed to him many actions which seem to correspond with that character. His portrait is by no means flattering; uniting every quality which could render strength formidable, and cruelty detestable. Combining prodigious bodily strength with cruelty, avarice, dissimulation, and treachery, is it surprising that a people, who attributed every event of life, in a great measure,...
Стр. 205 - The night it is her low lykewake, The morn her burial day, And we maun watch at mirk midnight, And hear what she will say.

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