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Autres éditions - Tout afficher
The modern Scottish minstrel; or, The songs of Scotland of the ..., Volume 3
Affichage du livre entier - 1856
The modern Scottish minstrel; or, The songs of Scotland of the ..., Volume 4
Affichage du livre entier - 1857
The modern Scottish minstrel; or, The songs of Scotland of the ..., Volume 1
Affichage du livre entier - 1855
afterwards appeared banks Bard beauty became blooming bonnie born bosom braes Campbell Charlie charms comes composed composition dear death died early Edinburgh edition Ettrick face fair father flower formed frae glen green hame hand heart Highland hills Hogg hope hour interesting James John kind Laidlaw land lass lassie leave letters light literary live Mary meet mind morning mountain native nature ne'er never night o'er original parish period person pleasure poem poet poetical poetry present published received residence respectable Robert rose scenes Scotland Scott Scottish Shepherd side sigh sing Sir Walter smile song stream sweet tear tell thee There's thing thou thought took tree verses volume wave wild winds write young youth
Page 258 - O'er the deadly space between. " Hearts of oak ! " our captains cried, when each gun From its adamantine lips Spread a death-shade round the ships, Like the hurricane eclipse Of the sun.
Page 254 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Page 257 - In a bold determin'd hand, And the Prince of all the land Led them on. Like leviathans afloat Lay their bulwarks on the brine, While the sign of battle flew On the lofty British line: It was ten of April morn by the chime: As they drifted on their...
Page 257 - How smit was poor Adelaide's heart at the sight ! How bitter she wept o'er the victim of war ! " Hast thou come, my fond Love, this last sorrowful night, To cheer the lone heart of your wounded Hussar?" " Thou shall live," she replied, " Heaven's mercy relieving Each anguishing wound, shall forbid me to mourn...
Page 259 - Ye are brothers! ye are men! And we conquer but to save ; So peace instead of death let us bring; But yield, proud foe, thy fleet, With the crews, at England's feet, And make submission meet To our king.
Page 45 - O'er moor and mountain green, O'er the red streamer that heralds the day, Over the cloudlet dim, Over the rainbow's rim, Musical cherub, soar, singing, away ! Then, when the gloaming comes, Low in the heather blooms Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be ! Emblem of happiness, Blest is thy dwelling-place — Oh, to abide in the desert with thee ! JAMES HOGG.
Page 259 - Brave hearts ! to Britain's pride Once so faithful and so true, On the deck of fame that died, With the gallant good Riou: Soft sigh the winds of Heaven o'er their grave ! While the billow mournful rolls And the mermaid's song condoles Singing glory to the souls Of the brave!
Page 243 - tis doubly dear to me ; Could I think I did deserve it, How much happier would I be ! Scenes of woe and scenes of pleasure, Scenes that former thoughts renew ; Scenes of woe and scenes of pleasure ; Now a sad and last adieu ! THE BRAES O
Page 258 - Like leviathans afloat, Lay their bulwarks on the brine; While the sign of battle flew On the lofty British line : It was ten of April morn by the chime : As they drifted on their path, There was silence deep as death; And the boldest held his breath, For a time. But the might of England flushed To anticipate the scene; And her van the fleeter rushed O'er the deadly space between. 'Hearts of oak!
Page 33 - ... Thou too art gone before ; but why, O'er ripe fruit, seasonably gathered, Should frail survivors heave a sigh ? Mourn rather for that holy Spirit, Sweet as the spring, as ocean deep ; For Her who, ere her summer faded, Has sunk into a breathless sleep. No more of old romantic sorrows, For slaughtered Youth or love-lorn Maid ! With sharper grief is Yarrow smitten, And Ettrick mourns with her their Poet dead.