O'er the Atlantic : Or, A Journal of a Voyage to and from Europe : a Graphic, Interesting and Historical Account of Places and Events, Embracing Portions of England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, France, and the Canadas

author, 1870 - 295 Seiten

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Seite 251 - Wi' mair o' horrible and awfu', Which ev"n to name wad be unlawfu'. As Tammie glowr'd, amaz'd, and curious, The mirth and fun grew fast and furious : The piper loud and louder blew ; The dancers quick and quicker flew ; They reel'd, they set, they cross'd, they cleekit, Till ilka carlin swat and reekit, And coost her duddies to the wark, And linket at it in her sark ! Now Tam, O Tam ! had thae been queans, A' plump and strapping in their teens ; Their sarks, instead o...
Seite 252 - Tam tint his reason a' thegither And roars out 'Weel done, Cutty-sark!' And in an instant all was dark; And scarcely had he Maggie rallied, When out the hellish legion sallied. As bees bizz out wi' angry fyke, When plundering herds assail their byke; As open pussie's mortal foes, When, pop! she starts before their nose; As eager runs the market-crowd, When 'Catch the thief!' resounds aloud; So Maggie runs — the witches follow, Wi' mony an eldritch skreech and hollow.
Seite 51 - THE harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts that once beat high for praise Now feel that pulse no more.
Seite 251 - A winnock-bunker in the east, There sat auld Nick, in shape o' beast; A towzie tyke, black, grim, and large, To gie them music was his charge : He screw'd the pipes and gart them skirl...
Seite 113 - How many hearts have here grown cold, That sleep these mouldering stones among ; How many beads have here been told, . How many matins here been sung. " On this rude stone, by time long broke, I think I see some pilgrim kneel ; I think I see the censor smoke ; I think I hear the solemn peal.
Seite 252 - As open pussie's mortal foes, When, pop ! she starts before their nose ; As eager runs the market-crowd, When "Catch the thief!" resounds aloud ; So Maggie runs, the witches follow, Wi' mony an eldritch skreech and hollow.
Seite 140 - He is a prince of a most royal carriage, and hath a princely heart; and rather than he will miss or want any part of his will, he will endanger the one half of his kingdom.
Seite 246 - REAR high thy bleak majestic hills, Thy shelter'd valleys proudly spread, And, SCOTIA, pour thy thousand rills, And wave thy heaths with blossoms red ; But, ah ! what poet now shall tread Thy airy heights, thy woodland reign, Since he the sweetest bard is dead That ever...
Seite 251 - The doubling storm roars thro' the woods; The lightnings flash from pole to pole; Near and more near the thunders roll: When, glimmering thro' the groaning trees, Kirk-Alloway seem'd in a bleeze ; Thro' ilka bore the beams were glancing; And loud resounded mirth and dancing. — Inspiring bold John Barleycorn ! What dangers thou canst make us scorn ! Wi' tippenny, we fear nae evil; Wi' usquebae, we'll face the devil!
Seite 229 - Our life is but a winter's day : Some only breakfast and away ; Others to dinner stay and are full fed; The oldest man but sups and goes to bed. Large is his debt who lingers out the day ; Who goes the soonest has the least to pay.

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