The Poetical Works of Sir David Lyndsay, Band 2

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W. Paterson, 1879
 

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Seite 319 - His watchmen are blind: they are all ignorant, they are all dumb dogs, they cannot bark; sleeping, lying down, loving to slumber. Yea, they are greedy dogs which can never have enough, and they are shepherds that cannot understand : they all look to their own way, every one for his gain, from his quarter.
Seite 302 - Now, John, (quod Nicholas) I wol not lie, I have yfounde in min astrologie, As I have loked in the moone bright, That now on Monday next, at quarter night, Shal fall a rain, and that so wild and wood That half so gret was never Noes flood. This world...
Seite 319 - Thair umest clayis, that was of rapploch gray, The Vickar gart his Clark bear them away. Quhen all was gane, I micht mak na debeat, Bot with my bairns past for till beg my meat.
Seite 154 - Pauper. Marie ! I lent my gossop my mear to fetch hame coills, And he hir drounit into the Querrell hollis ; And I ran to the Consistorie, for to pleinze*, And thair I happinit amang ane greidie meinze*.
Seite 127 - Thare is nocht in all this toun, (Bot, I wald nocht this taill war tald,) Bot I wald hang him for his goun, Quhidder that it war laird, or laid.
Seite 105 - PAUPER. Be Him, that buir the cruell croun of thorne, ' I cair nocht to be hangit, evin the morne. DILIGENCE. Be sure, of Preistis thou will get na support. PAUPER. Gif that be trew, the Feind resave the sort...
Seite 108 - For meill, for malt, or for monie, For cok, hen, guse, or gryse. Of relicts, heir I haif ane hunder ; Quhy cum ye nocht 1 this is ane wonder : I trow ye be nocht wyse.
Seite 206 - Bot, in the midst of the cawsa, I fell into ane midding : Scho lap upon me, with ane bend, Quha ever the middings sould amend, God send them ane mischevous end ! For, that is bot God's bidding.
Seite 93 - Ferric myre, Confirmit in Parliament. DILIGENCE. I will get riches throw that rent, Efter the day of Dume, Quhen, in the colpots of Tranent, Butter will grow on brume...
Seite 102 - Wee had thrie ky, that was baith fat and fair, Nane tydier into the toun of Air. My Father was sa waik of blude, and bane, That he deit, quhairfoir my Mother maid gret maine : Then scho deit, within ane day or two ; And thair began my povertie, and wo.

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