Old Scotch Songs and Poems

Voorkant
Oxford University Press, 1927 - 463 pagina's
 

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Pagina 270 - And tauld the king o me, To send us out, at this time of the year, To sail upon the sea? " " Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet, Our ship must sail the faem ; The king's daughter of Noroway, Tis we must fetch her hame.
Pagina 96 - A chain of gold ye sail not lack, Nor braid to bind your hair ; Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk, Nor palfrey fresh and fair ; And you, the foremost o' them a', Shall ride our forest queen " — But aye she loot the tears down fa
Pagina 274 - He hadna gane a step, a step, A step but barely ane, When a bout flew out of our goodly ship, And the salt sea it came in. ' Gae, fetch a web o' the silken claith, Another o' the twine, And wap them into our ship's side, And let na the sea come in.
Pagina 140 - I've heard them lilting, at our ewe-milking Lasses a' lilting before dawn of day : But now they are moaning, on ilka green loaning, The Flowers of the forest are a
Pagina 108 - Just entered in her teens, Fair as the day, and sweet as May, Fair as the day, and always gay. My Peggy is a young thing, And I'm not very auld, Yet well I like to meet her at The wauking of the fauld. My Peggy speaks sae sweetly, Whene'er we meet alane, I wish nae mair to lay my care, — I wish nae mair of a' that's rare. My Peggy speaks sae sweetly, To a' the lave I'm cauld ; But she gars a' my spirits glow, At wauking of the fauld.
Pagina 276 - A' for the sake of their true loves, For them they'll see nae mair. O lang lang may the ladyes sit, Wi' their fans into their hand, Before they see Sir Patrick Spens Come sailing to the strand ! And lang lang may the maidens sit, Wi' their goud kaims in their hair, A' waiting for their ain dear loves, For them they'll see nae mair.
Pagina 120 - Dumblane. How sweet is the brier, wi' its saft faulding blossom, And sweet is the birk, wi' its mantle o' green ; Yet sweeter and fairer, and dear to this bosom, Is lovely young Jessie, the flower o
Pagina 290 - O that I were where Helen lies! Night and day on me she cries; Out of my bed she bids me rise, Says, 'Haste, and come to me!
Pagina 258 - Grumlie swore by the light o' the moon. And the green leaves on the tree, That he could do more work in a day Than his wife could do in three. His wife rose up in the morning Wi' cares and troubles enow— John Grumlie, bide at hame, John, And I'll go haud the plow.
Pagina 168 - Tis beneath the spreading birk, In the glen without the name, Wi' a bonny, bonny lassie, When the kye comes hame. There the blackbird bigs his nest For the mate he loes to see, And on the topmost bough, O, a happy bird is he; Where he pours his melting ditty, And love is a' the theme, And he'll woo his bonny lassie When the kye comes hame.

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