Memorials of the Sixtieth Wedding Anniversary of Sarah Swain Hathaway and John Murray Forbes: Feb. 8, 1834-1894

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Edith Emerson Forbes
1894 - 86 páginas

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Página 29 - I'll never love thee more. As Alexander I will reign, And I will reign alone ; My thoughts did evermore disdain A rival on my throne. 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.
Página 64 - Away to the hills, to the caves, to the rocks — Ere I own an usurper, I'll couch with the fox ; And tremble, false Whigs, in the midst of your glee, You have not seen the last of my bonnet and me !
Página 59 - Come from the hills where your hirsels are grazing, Come from the glen of the buck and the roe; Come to the crag where the beacon is blazing, Come with the buckler, the lance, and the bow.
Página 20 - His step is first in peaceful ha', His sword in battle keen ' — But aye she loot the tears down fa
Página 54 - The dance gaed thro' the lighted ha', To thee my fancy took its wing, I sat, but neither heard nor saw: Tho' this was fair, and that was braw, And yon the toast of a' the town, I sigh'd and said amang them a'; — "Ye are na Mary Morison!
Página 59 - MARCH, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale, Why the deil dinua ye march forward in order ? March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale, All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border.
Página 66 - Through the depths of Loch Katrine the steed shall career, O'er the peak of Ben- Lomond the galley shall steer, And the rocks of Craig- Royston like icicles melt, Ere our wrongs be forgot, or our vengeance unfelt.
Página 20 - WHY weep ye by the tide, ladie? Why weep ye by the tide? I'll wed ye to my youngest son, And ye sail be his bride: And ye sail be his bride, ladie, Sae comely to be seen" — But aye she loot the tears down fa
Página 29 - There are mair folk than him bigging castles in the air. Sic a night in winter may weel mak' him cauld: His chin upon his buffy hand will soon mak' him auld; His brow is brent sae braid - O pray that daddy Care Wad let the wean alane wi
Página 63 - Dundee. Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can, Come saddle your horses, and call up your men; Come open the West Port and let me gang free, And it's room for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee!

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