The Tea-table Miscellany: Or, A Collection of Choice Songs, Scots and English: In Four Volumes..

Voorkant
sold, 1750 - 448 pagina's
 

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Populaire passages

Pagina 229 - Where gat ye that bonny bonny bride ? Where gat ye that winsome marrow ? A. I gat her where I dare na weil be seen, Puing the birks on the Braes of Yarrow.
Pagina 297 - Twas this deprived my soul of rest, And rais'd such tumults in my breast ; For while I gaz'd, in transport tost, My breath was gone, my voice was lost : My bosom glow'd ; the subtle flame Ran quick through all my vital frame ; O'er my dim eyes a darkness hung ; My ears with hollow murmurs rung. In dewy damps my limbs were chill'd ; My blood with gentle horrors thrill'd ; My feeble pulse forgot to play ; I fainted, sunk, and died away.
Pagina 86 - How blyth and merry wad I be ! And I wad never think lang. He grew canty, and she grew fain ; But little did her auld minny ken What thir slee twa togither were say'ng, When wooing they were sae thrang. And O ! quo' he, ann ye were as black, As e'er the crown of my dady's hat, 'Tis I wad lay thee by my back, And awa' wi
Pagina 146 - I wear: And cold and weary lasts our night, Till that last morn appear. But hark! — the cock has warn'd me hence; A long and late adieu! Come, see, false man, how low she lies, Who dy'd for love of you.
Pagina 256 - Why so pale and wan, fond lover? Prithee, why so pale? Will, when looking well can't move her, Looking ill prevail? Prithee, why so pale?
Pagina 146 - How could you say my face was fair, And yet that face forsake? How could you win my virgin heart, Yet leave that heart to break?
Pagina 206 - 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 230 - Sweet smells the birk, green grows, green grows the grass, Yellow on Yarrow's bank the gowan ; Fair hangs the apple frae the rock, Sweet the wave of Yarrow flowan.
Pagina 207 - 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. My Peggy smiles sae kindly, Whene'er I whisper love. That I look down on a' the town, — That I look down upon a crown.
Pagina 145 - So shall the fairest face appear, When youth and years are flown: Such is the robe that kings must wear, When death has reft their crown.

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