The Paisley Repository: Being Chiefly a Collection of Poetry, Original and SelectedJ. Neilson |
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Seite 15
... Say , if he face my bended bow He sure na weapon feirs . 30 Proud Norse with giant body tall , Braid shoulder , and arms strong ; C Cryd , Quhar is Hardyknute sae fam'd , And feird at Britain's throne ? Thouch Britons tremble at his ...
... Say , if he face my bended bow He sure na weapon feirs . 30 Proud Norse with giant body tall , Braid shoulder , and arms strong ; C Cryd , Quhar is Hardyknute sae fam'd , And feird at Britain's throne ? Thouch Britons tremble at his ...
Seite 17
... licht in my lady's bouir , " Thairs na licht in my ha ; " Na blink shynes round my Fairly Fair , " Na ward stands on my wa . " Quhat bodes it ? Thomas , Robert , say . " Na answer fits their dreid . “ Stand back , my sons , Ile be zour 17.
... licht in my lady's bouir , " Thairs na licht in my ha ; " Na blink shynes round my Fairly Fair , " Na ward stands on my wa . " Quhat bodes it ? Thomas , Robert , say . " Na answer fits their dreid . “ Stand back , my sons , Ile be zour 17.
Seite 19
... say thy master's shield in weir , " His sawman in the ha , " What hatefu chance cold hae the pouir " To lay thy eild sae law ? " 50 To his complaint the bleiding knicht Return'd a piteous mane , And recht his hand , whilk Hardyknute ...
... say thy master's shield in weir , " His sawman in the ha , " What hatefu chance cold hae the pouir " To lay thy eild sae law ? " 50 To his complaint the bleiding knicht Return'd a piteous mane , And recht his hand , whilk Hardyknute ...
Seite 21
... say , But swoonit on his harnest neck Wi joy and tender fay . To see her in sic balefu sort Reviv'd his selcouth feirs ; But sune she raisd her comely luik , And saw his faing teirs . 60 " Ye are na wont to greit wi wreuch , " Grit ...
... say , But swoonit on his harnest neck Wi joy and tender fay . To see her in sic balefu sort Reviv'd his selcouth feirs ; But sune she raisd her comely luik , And saw his faing teirs . 60 " Ye are na wont to greit wi wreuch , " Grit ...
Seite 24
... Say to my bands of matchless micht ,. Wha camp law in the dale , To busk their arrows for the fecht , And streitly gird their mail . Syne meit me heir , and wein to find . Na just or turney play ; Whan Hardyknute braids to the field ...
... Say to my bands of matchless micht ,. Wha camp law in the dale , To busk their arrows for the fecht , And streitly gird their mail . Syne meit me heir , and wein to find . Na just or turney play ; Whan Hardyknute braids to the field ...
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Abbey Church Abbot Abbot of Paisley Alexander Allan Andrew Young arms back my chylde Ballad Barchan Beltrees bleid bluid bouir braive bruik cheik cheir Columbia's fons cry'd dame deid deidly deir dethe dochter Draffan dreid eild Epitaph Fairly Fair fecht feir fene ferce firſt fome frae Francis Sempill fune fword glaive glie gude Guidwife Habby Simpson Habby's Hardyknute Heir lyis Inscription James John JOHN MILLAR Kilbarchan King Kirk-town knicht kyth lady licht Lord Hardyknute luve lyes lyfe maid mair maun micht mony Mordac neid neir Norfe PAISLEY REPOSITORY pouir pryde pypis quha Quhan qvha Rejoice Richt riever Robert sall Sandholes Schaw scho Scotland Scots Scottish Semple Song Stanza steid stone stryfe sune Syne teir thair thee Thomas thou thouſand throuch tomb stones touir trix wald weaver weir Whan Whar ye men zour
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 3 - The worms from their webs, where they riot and welter ; His song and his services freely are ours, And all that he asks is, in summer a shelter. The ploughman is pleased when he gleans in his train, Now searching the furrows, now mounting to cheer him; The...
Seite 3 - Oh, then to your gardens ye housewives repair, Your walks border up, sow and plant at your leisure ; The bluebird will chant from his box such an air, That all your hard toils will seem truly a pleasure. He flits through the orchard, he visits each...
Seite 2 - Such are the mild and pleasing manners of the Blue-bird, and so universally is he esteemed, that I have often regretted that no pastoral muse has yet arisen in this western woody world, to do justice to his name, and endear him to us still more by the tenderness of verse, as has been done to his representative in Britain, the Robin Red-breast.
Seite 2 - BONAPARTE. New and Enlarged Edition, completed by the insertion of above One Hundred Birds omitted in the original Work, and by valuable Notes and Life of the Author by Sir WILLIAM JARDINE.
Seite 3 - He hes us blindit lang; For quhair the blind the blind dois gyde, Na wonder baith ga wrang: Lyke prince and king he led the ring Of all iniquitie: Hay trix, tryme go trix, Under the grene wod-tree.
Seite 4 - Baltimore is seen ; The broad extended boughs still please him best, Beneath their bending skirts he hangs his nest; There his sweet mate, secure from every harm, Broods o'er her spotted store, and wraps them warm ; Lists to the noontide hum of busy bees, Her partner's mellow song, the brook, the breeze ; These day by day the lonely hours deceive, From dewy morn to slow descending eve. Two weeks elapsed, behold ! a helpless crew Claim all her care and her affection too ; On wings of love the assiduous...
Seite 3 - When all the gay scenes of the summer are o'er, And autumn slow enters so silent and sallow, And millions of warblers, that charm'd us before, Have fled in the train of the sun-seeking swallow ; The bluebird, forsaken, yet true to his home, « Still lingers, and looks for a milder to-morrow, Till forced by the horrors of winter to roam, He sings his adieu in a lone note of sorrow.
Seite 3 - In mantle of sky-blue, and bosom so red, That each little loiterer seems to adore him. When all the gay scenes of the summer are o'er, And autumn slow...
Seite 4 - The Baltimore inhabits North America, from Canada to Mexico, and is even found as far south as Brazil. Since the streets of our cities have been planted with that beautiful and stately tree, the Lombardy poplar, these birds are our constant...
Seite 18 - O haly God, for his deir sake, Wha savd us on the rude — He tint his praier, and drew his glaive, Yet reid wi Norland bluid. " Brayd on, brayd on, my stalwart sons, Grit cause we ha to feir ; But aye the canny ferce contemn The hap they canna veir.