Scotland, Denmark, Iceland, Norway, and Sweden

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1876
 

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Seite 73 - 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', Let him follow me!
Seite 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...
Seite 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.
Seite 168 - 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' height, Heaven's fire is around thee, to blast and to burn ; Return to thy dwelling ! all lonely, return ! For the blackness of ashes shall mark where it stood, And a wild mother scream o'er her famishing brood.
Seite 34 - Wi' reaming swats, that drank divinely: And at his elbow, Souter Johnny, His ancient, trusty, drouthy crony; Tarn lo'ed him like a vera brither; They had been fou for weeks thegither. The night drave on wi...
Seite 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.
Seite 33 - Whare sits our sulky sullen dame, Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. This truth fand honest Tarn o...
Seite 35 - Borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the rainbow's lovely form, Evanishing amid the storm. Nae man can tether time or tide, The hour approaches, Tam maun ride; That hour, o...
Seite 56 - But, oh! fell Death's untimely frost, That nipt my flower sae early! Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay, That wraps my Highland Mary!
Seite 19 - Prompt to please her master ; And the begging carlin, late Fed and clothed at Ury's gate, Cursed him as he passed her. Yet, with calm and stately mien, Up the streets of Aberdeen Came he slowly riding ; And, to all he saw and heard Answering not with bitter word, Turning not for chiding.

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