Sir Walter Scott's Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border, Том 4

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W. Blackwood and sons, 1902
 

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Стр. 3 - Come away, come away, death, And in sad cypress let me be laid ; Fly away, fly away, breath ; I am slain by a fair cruel maid. My shroud of white, stuck all with yew, O ! prepare it ; My part of death no one so true Did share it. Not a flower, not a flower sweet, • On my black coffin let there be strown ; Not a friend, not a friend greet My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown : A thousand thousand sighs to save, Lay me, O ! where Sad true lover never find my grave, To weep there.
Стр. 4 - I never heard the old song of Percy and Douglas that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet...
Стр. 86 - Light down, light down, now, true Thomas, And lean your head upon my knee ; Abide and rest a little space, And I will shew you ferlies three.
Стр. 174 - The old people point out her monument, now broken and defaced. The inscription is said to have been legible within this century, and to have run thus : —
Стр. 88 - Take this for thy wages, true Thomas ; It will give thee the tongue that can never lie.' 'My tongue is mine ain,' true Thomas said; 'A gudely gift ye wad gie to me!
Стр. 81 - Ercildoune, a person came running in, and told, with marks of fear and astonishment, that a hart and hind had left the neighbouring forest, and were, composedly and slowly, parading the street of the village. The prophet instantly arose, left his habitation, and followed the wonderful animals to the forest, whence he was never seen to return. According to the popular belief, he still "drees his weird" in Fairy Land, and is one day expected to revisit earth.
Стр. 167 - The worms around him creep, and his bloody grave is deep .... It cannot give up the dead ! " It was near the ringing of matin-bell...
Стр. 2 - O fellow, come, the song we had last night: Mark it, Cesario; it is old and plain: The spinsters and the knitters in the sun, And the free maids that weave their thread with bones, Do use to chant it ; it is silly sooth, And dallies with the innocence of love, Like the old age.
Стр. 86 - And see not ye that bonny road, That winds about the fernie brae? That is the road to fair Elfland, Where thou and I this night maun gae. " But, Thomas, ye maun hold your tongue, Whatever ye may hear or see ; For, if you speak word in Elflyn land, Ye'll ne'er get back to your ain countrie.

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