Отзывы - Написать отзыв
Не удалось найти ни одного отзыва.
Другие издания - Просмотреть все
amang Auchtertool auld Ballochmyle banks of Ayr Ben Lomond beneath Bennachie birds birks birks of Aberfeldy Blaavin blaw blithe bloom blue bonnie lass bosom bower Branksome Hall brave breast BRIG bright Carmyle Castle Castle-Gordon clouds Clyde Coquet Water corri Craig Elachie Craigcrook Craigcrook Roses Craigie Lea Craigieburn dark David Macbeth Moir dear deep dewy dream fair Farewell flowers foam frae Gadie rins gleaming glen gloom gray green grove ha'e hath heart heaven Highland hundred pipers lassie Lomond lone loud Mary mony morn mountain mourn mournfully ne'er night o'er proud River roar Robert Burns Robert Tannahill rock round sang scene shade shore sing Sir Walter Scott smile Stand fast steep stray stream summer sweet thee thine Thou bonny wood torrents towers tree vale wander wave weary wild William Wordsworth wind wood of Craigie
Стр. 197 - She should have died hereafter ; There would have been a time for such a word. — To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time ; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death.
Стр. 56 - Mary ! dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest ? See'st thou thy lover lowly laid ? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast ? " That sacred hour can I forget, Can I forget the hallowed grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met, To live one day of parting love...
Стр. 197 - I have almost forgot the taste of fears : The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek ; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in 't : I have supp'd full with horrors ; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.
Стр. 169 - Lo ! anointed by Heaven with the vials of wrath, Behold where he flies on his desolate path ! Now in darkness and billows he sweeps from my sight : Rise ! rise ! ye wild tempests, and cover his flight ! — 'Tis finished.
Стр. 167 - LOCHIEL, Lochiel ! beware of the day When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array ! For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight, And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight. They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown ; Woe, woe to the riders that trample them down ! Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain, And their hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain.
Стр. 7 - The bride at the altar ; Leave the deer, leave the steer, Leave nets and barges : Come with your fighting gear, Broadswords and targes. Come as the winds come, when Forests are rended, Come as the waves come, when Navies are stranded : Faster come, faster come, Faster and faster, Chief, vassal, page and groom, Tenant and master.
Стр. 167 - Glenullin! whose bride shall await, Like a love-lighted watch-fire, all night at the gate. A steed comes at morning: no rider is there; But its bridle is red with the sign of despair.
Стр. 168 - Lo ! the death-shot of foemen outspeeding, he rode Companionless bearing destruction abroad ; But down let him stoop from his havoc on high ! Ah, home let him speed, — for the spoiler is nigh ! Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast ? 'Tis the fire-shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven From his eyrie, that beacons the darkness of heaven. Oh, crested Lochiel, the peerless in might, Whose banners arise on the battlements...
Стр. 183 - YE banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair; How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu' o