The Jacobite Relics of Scotland: Being the Songs, Airs, and Legends, of the Adherents to the House of Stuart, 2. kötetWilliam Blackwood, 1821 |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 35 találatból.
22. oldal
... hope and you . O my king , & c . Set our true king upon the throne Of his ancestors dear , And send the German cuckold home To starve with his small gear . O my king , & c . Then happy days in peace we'll see , And joy in every face ...
... hope and you . O my king , & c . Set our true king upon the throne Of his ancestors dear , And send the German cuckold home To starve with his small gear . O my king , & c . Then happy days in peace we'll see , And joy in every face ...
45. oldal
... hope he'll send us help from far , To end the work begun by Mar : Then let this health go round . A running bumper , & c . May our affairs abroad succeed , And may the king return in speed ; May each usurper shake for dread : Let all ...
... hope he'll send us help from far , To end the work begun by Mar : Then let this health go round . A running bumper , & c . May our affairs abroad succeed , And may the king return in speed ; May each usurper shake for dread : Let all ...
89. oldal
... hope we yet shall see the day , When Whigs shall dree the dule they ga'e , Shall yield their proud necks to the laws , And bow beneath the righteous cause . Be valiant , & c . Here's to the lads who dare be free , The lads who true and ...
... hope we yet shall see the day , When Whigs shall dree the dule they ga'e , Shall yield their proud necks to the laws , And bow beneath the righteous cause . Be valiant , & c . Here's to the lads who dare be free , The lads who true and ...
130. oldal
... hope , Took horse for his life , and left his men ; In their arms he put no trust , for he knew it was just That the king should enjoy his own again . To your arms , to your arms , my bonny Highland lads ! We winna brook the rule o ' a ...
... hope , Took horse for his life , and left his men ; In their arms he put no trust , for he knew it was just That the king should enjoy his own again . To your arms , to your arms , my bonny Highland lads ! We winna brook the rule o ' a ...
134. oldal
... hope , Did beat the re - bel To - ry . With sword and targe , in dreadful rage , The mountain lads descended ; They cut and hack , alack ! alack ! The battle soon was ended , And happy he who first could flee : Both soldiers 134 THE ...
... hope , Did beat the re - bel To - ry . With sword and targe , in dreadful rage , The mountain lads descended ; They cut and hack , alack ! alack ! The battle soon was ended , And happy he who first could flee : Both soldiers 134 THE ...
Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése
Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
Aikendrum Airly Argyle arms attack auld battle battle of Prestonpans battle of Sheriffmuir bonnet bonny laddie brave Britons captain castle Charlie Charlie Stuart chevalier chief clans command crown Culloden Cumberland Donald dragoons duke duke of Cumberland earl of Mar Edinburgh enemy Falkirk fight foes frae France friends Gaelic gentlemen Geordie glen Glengary Gordon gude hame hand Hawley heart Heigh-ho Highland army Highland laddie hills honour horse house of Stuart Inverness Jacobite James Johnnie Cope joined Keppoch king Kingsborough lady laird land lassie Lochaber Lochiel lord George Murray Macdonald marquis morning ne'er never night o'er officers owre party Perth plaid prince Charles prince's prisoners rebels regiment rin awa royal Scotland Seaforth sent SONG Stirling Stuart sword thee There's thou throne troops unto weel Willie Ye whigs young
Népszerű szakaszok
157. oldal - A waefu' day it was to me ; For there I lost my father dear, My father dear and brethren three. Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay, Their graves are growing green to see ; And by them lies the dearest lad That ever blest a woman's e'e ! Now wae to thee thou cruel lord, A bluidy man I trow thou be ; For mony a heart thou hast made sair, That ne'er did wrang to thine or thee ! A RED, RED ROSE TUNE—
173. oldal - Lie slaughter'd on their native ground ; Thy hospitable roofs no more Invite the stranger to the door ; In smoky ruins sunk they lie, The monuments of cruelty. The wretched owner sees afar His all become the prey of war ; Bethinks him of his babes and wife, Then smites his breast and curses life.
107. oldal - " The Deil confound me gin I ken, For I left them a' i' the morning." " Now, Johnnie, troth ye were na blate To come wi' the news o' your ain defeat, And leave your men in sic a strait So early in the morning.
174. oldal - The pious mother, doom'd to death, Forsaken wanders o'er the heath, The bleak wind whistles round her head, Her helpless orphans cry for bread ; Bereft of shelter, food, and friend, She views the shades of night descend; And stretch'd beneath the inclement skies, Weeps o'er her tender babes, and dies. While the warm blood bedews my veins. And unimpair'd remembrance reigns, Resentment of my country's fate, Within my filial breast shall beat...
298. oldal - James the Third for my rightful and lawful sovereign. Him I had an inclination to serve from my infancy, and was moved thereto by a natural love I had to his person, knowing him to be capable of making his people happy. And though...
220. oldal - Manifesto by the Noblemen, Gentlemen, and others, who dutifully appear at this time, in asserting the undoubted right of their lawful Sovereign, James the Eighth, by the Grace of God, King of Scotland, England, France, and Ireland, Defender of the Faith, &c. and for relieving this, his ancient kingdom, from the oppressions and grievances it lies under.
265. oldal - ... and the good woman brought new milk, which she told them was all her stock. One of the party inquired, with seeming kindness, how she lived. — Indeed, (quoth she,) the cow and the kale yard, wi* God's blessing, 's a
23. oldal - In my father's grave to lie. There chant my solemn requiem In Hexham's holy towers; And let six maids of fair Tynedale Scatter my grave with flowers.
410. oldal - From Beauly's wild and woodland glens How proudly Lovat's banners soar ! How fierce the plaided Highland clans Rush onward with the broad claymore ! Those hearts that high with honour...
115. oldal - That atill despised flight, man. For king, and laws, and country's cause, In honour's bed he lay, man, His life, but not his courage, fled, While he had breath to draw, man. And Major Bowie, that worthy soul, Was brought down to the ground, man ; His horse being shot, it was his lot For to get mony a wound, man. Lieutenant Smith, of Irish birth, Frae whom he call'd for aid, man, But full of dread, lap o'er his head, And wadna be gainsaid, man.