The ever green, being a collection of Scots poems, wrote by the ingenious before 1600, publ. by A. Ramsay, Band 1

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Seite 79 - Requeisting him to mak me quaint Of the beginning and the event, That happenit thair at the Harlaw : Then he entreited me tak tent, And he the truth sould to me schaw.
Seite viii - Description) as she does in the Scottish Horizon. We are not carried to Greece or Italy for a Shade, a Stream or a Breeze. The Groves rise in our own Valleys; the Rivers flow from our own Fountains, and the Winds blow upon our own Hills.
Seite 61 - Be that sum pairte of mawkynis aill Outthrow his hairt cowd creip; he fallowit hir fast thair till assaill, and till hir tuke gude keip.
Seite 80 - And he the truth sould to me schaw. Grit Donald of the Yles did claim Unto the lands of Ross sum richt, And to the governour he came, Them for to haif, gif that he micht : Quha saw his interest was but slicht, And thairfore answerit with disdain ; He hastit hame baith day and nicht, And sent nae bodward back again.
Seite 90 - Quhilk in this realme has bene full ryfe : Lord help these lands, our wrangs redress. In July, on Saint James his even, That four and twenty dismall day, Twelve hundred, ten score and eleven Of zeirs sen Chryst, the suthe to say, Men will remember, as they may, Quhen thus the veritie they knaw, And mony a ane may murn for ay, The brim battil of the Harlaw.
Seite 80 - Ross to haif, Or ells be graithed in his graif : He wald not quat his richt for nocht, Nor be abusit lyk a slaif ; That bargin sould be deirly bocht. « Then haistylie he did command, That all his weir-men should convene, Ilk an well harnisit frae hand, To meit and...
Seite 85 - Harlaw. The armies met, the trumpet sounds, The dandring drums alloud did touk, Baith armies byding on the bounds, Till ane of them the feild sould bruik. Nae help was thairfor, nane wald jouk, Ferss was the fecht on ilka syde, And on the ground lay mony a bouk Of them that thair did battill byd.
Seite 89 - Irving, The much renownit laird of Drum, Nane in his days was bettir sene, Quhen they war semblit all and sum. To praise him we sould not be dumm, For valour, witt, and worthyness ; To end his days he ther did cum, Quhois ransom is remeidyless.
Seite ix - The man whose inclinations are turned to mirth will be pleased to know how the good fellow of a former age told his jovial tale; and the lover may divert himself with the old fashioned « sonnet of an amorous poet in Queen Margaret and Queen Mary's days.
Seite 83 - Erle of Marr Marcht with his men in richt array ; Befoir the enemie was aware, His banner bauldly did display. For weil enewch they kend the way, And all their semblance weil they saw : Without all dangir, or delay, Come haistily to the Harlaw.

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