The ballads of Scotland, المجلد 2

الغلاف الأمامي
William Edmondstoune Aytoun
W. Blackwood and sons, 1858
 

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الصفحة 38 - As I was walking all alane, I heard twa corbies making a mane ; The tane unto the t'other say, " Where sall we gang and dine to-day...
الصفحة 37 - Rivin' her hair. Saddled and bridled And booted rade he; Toom hame cam the saddle But never cam he! "My meadow lies green, And my corn is unshorn, My barn is to bigg, And my babie's unborn.
الصفحة 343 - They hadna sailed a league, a league, A league but barely three, When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, And gurly grew the sea. The ankers brak, and the topmasts lap, It was sic a deadly storm, And the waves came o'er the broken ship, Till a
الصفحة 124 - What became of your bloodhounds, Lord Randal, my son? What became of your bloodhounds, my handsome young man?" "O they swell'd and they died; mother, make my bed soon, For I'm weary wi' hunting, and fain wald lie down.
الصفحة 125 - For I'm weary wi hunting, and fain wald lie down." " OI fear ye are poisond, Lord Randal, my son! OI fear ye are poisond, my handsome young man!
الصفحة 258 - ADIEU, madame, my mother dear, But and my sisters three ! Adieu, fair Robert of Orchardstane ! My heart is wae for thee. Adieu the lily and the rose, The primrose, fair to see ! Adieu, my ladye, and only joy ! For I may not stay with thee.
الصفحة 397 - Plans of all the important Countries and Localities referred to by Classical Authors ; accompanied by a pronouncing Index of Places, by T. HARVEY, MA Oxon.
الصفحة 103 - Gae back, gae back now, Sweet Willie, And comfort your fair lady ; For where ye had but ae nourice, Your young son shall hae three.
الصفحة 400 - RUSSIAN SHORES OF THE BLACK SEA In the Autumn of 1852. With a Voyage down the Volga and a Tour through the Country of the Don Cossacks. By LAURENCE OLIPHANT, Esq.
الصفحة 333 - Which was the unthrifty heire of Linne. His father was a right good lord, His mother a lady of high degree ; But they, alas ! were dead, him froe, And he lov'd keeping companie. To spend the daye with merry...

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