Nether Lochaber: The Natural History, Legends, and Folk-lore of the West Highlands

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W. Paterson, 1883 - 417 páginas
 

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Página 128 - My beloved spake, and said unto me, rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away ; for lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone : the flowers appear on the earth ; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land. The fig-tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Página 288 - Pope. Friend to my life, (which did not you prolong, The world had wanted many an idle song) What drop or nostrum can this plague remove?
Página 45 - ... while the Earth remaineth seed-time and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease.
Página 66 - And now, my race of terror run, Mine be the eve of tropic Sun ! No pale gradations quench his ray, No twilight dews his wrath allay ; With disk like battle-target red, He rushes to his burning bed, Dyes the wide wave with bloody light, Then sinks at once — and all is night.
Página 81 - When forced the fair nymph to forego. What anguish I felt at my heart: Yet I thought — but it might not be so — Twas with pain that she saw me depart. She gazed as I slowly withdrew, My path I could hardly discern; So sweetly she bade me adieu, I thought that she bade me return.
Página 80 - I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed; But let me that plunder forbear, She will say 'twas a barbarous deed...
Página 31 - La gentille aloiiette, avec son tirelire, Tirelire a lire, et tireliran tire, Vers la voute du ciel, puis son vol vers ce lieu, Vire et desire dire adieu Dieu, adieu Dieu.
Página 110 - The raven himself is hoarse That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan Under my battlements. Come, you spirits That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full Of direst cruelty ! make thick my blood ; Stop up...
Página 154 - And so the time beguile ; And if the moon doth hide her head. The glowworm lights us home to bed.
Página 406 - How happy could I be with either, Were t'other dear Charmer away!

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