The Harp of Caledonia: A Collection of Songs, Ancient and Modern, Chiefly Scottish, with an Essay on Scottish Song Writers, Volum 2

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Khull, Blackie, 1821
 

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Pàgina 86 - TO ALTHEA FROM PRISON When Love with unconfined wings Hovers within my gates, And my divine Althea brings To whisper at the grates; When I lie tangled in her hair And fettered to her eye. The birds that wanton in the air Know no such liberty.
Pàgina 149 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
Pàgina 241 - Toll for the brave! The brave that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave, Fast by their native shore ! Eight hundred of the brave, Whose courage well was tried, Had made the vessel heel, And laid her on her side. A land-breeze shook the shrouds, And she was overset; Down went the Royal George, With all her crew complete.
Pàgina 37 - But sure such folks could ne'er beget So sweet a girl as Sally ! She is the darling of my heart, And she lives in our alley.
Pàgina 242 - Brave Kempenfelt is gone; His last sea-fight is fought, His work of glory done. It was not in the battle; No tempest gave the shock; She sprang no fatal leak, She ran upon no rock. His sword was in its sheath, His fingers held the pen, When Kempenfelt went down With twice four hundred men.
Pàgina 253 - Still more majestic shalt thou rise, More dreadful from each foreign stroke ; As the loud blast that tears the skies, Serves but to root thy native oak.
Pàgina 151 - Again ! again ! again ! And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane To our cheering sent us back ; — Their shots along the deep slowly boom : — Then ceased — and all is wail, As they strike the shattered sail; Or in conflagration pale Light the gloom.
Pàgina 67 - I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee. Or did misfortune's bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a', to share it a'.
Pàgina 223 - But the day-star attracted his eyes' sad devotion ; For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean : Where once, in the fire of his youthful emotion, He sang the bold anthem of Erin go bragh. Sad is my fate...
Pàgina 78 - I'll wage thee! Who shall say that Fortune grieves him While the star of Hope she leaves him? Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me, Dark despair around benights me. I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy; Naething could resist my Nancy; But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love for ever.

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