Scotland, Historic and Romantic, 2. kötet

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H. T. Coates & Company, 1901
 

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52. oldal - But a true poet, a man in whose heart resides some effluence of wisdom, some tone of the " eternal melodies," is the most precious gift that can be bestowed on a generation. We see in him a freer, purer development of whatever is noblest in ourselves ; his life is a rich lesson to us, and we mourn his death as that of a benefactor who loved and taught us.
50. oldal - I was thinking of indenting myself for want of money to procure my passage. As soon as I was master of nine guineas, the price of wafting me to the torrid zone, I took a steerage passage in the first ship that was to sail from the Clyde, for Hungry ruin had me in the wind.
50. oldal - I had been for some days skulking from covert to covert, under all the terrors of a jail; as some ill-advised people had uncoupled the merciless pack of the law at my heels. I had taken the last farewell of my few friends; my chest was on the road to Greenock; I had composed the last song I should ever measure in Caledonia — "The gloomy night is gathering fast,
190. oldal - He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch, To gain or lose it all.
67. oldal - My wound is deep, I fain would sleep; Take thou the vanguard of the three, And hide me by the braken bush That grows on yonder lilye lee.
205. oldal - Auld Lang Syne" brings Scotland, one and all, Scotch plaids, Scotch snoods, the blue hills, and clear streams, The Dee, the Don, Balgounie's brig's black wall, All my boy feelings, all my gentler dreams Of what I then dreamt, clothed in their own pall, Like Banquo's offspring: — floating past me seems My childhood, in this childishness of mine: I care not — 'tis a glimpse of "Auld Lang Syne.
17. oldal - When, from the sun, was thy broad forehead hid? How long is't since the mighty power bid Thee heave to airy sleep from fathom dreams? Sleep in the lap of thunder or sunbeams, Or when grey clouds are thy cold coverlid. Thou...
176. oldal - I have been writing a ballad, my dear; I am oppressing my heroine with many misfortunes. I have already sent her Jamie to sea, and broken her father's arm, and made her mother fall sick, and given her Auld Robin Gray for her lover ; but I wish to load her with a fifth sorrow within the four lines, poor thing ! Help me to one." — "Steal the cow, sister Anne,
333. oldal - This whole fabric hung, as it were, by a large tree, which reclined from the one end, all along the roof to the other, and which gave it the name of the Cage...
180. oldal - After a very hospitable reception from the late Peter Proctor, seneschal of the castle, I was conducted to my apartment in a distant part of the building. I must own that when I heard door after door shut, after my conductor had retired, I began to consider myself as too far from the living, and somewhat too near the dead. We had passed through what is called the King's Room...

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