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ancient appear arms band battle believed blade blood bold brand breast brow called callid CANTO chase chief Chieftain claim clan close Cross danger dark death deep Douglas dream Ellen fair fear fell fire foot friends gave give given glance glen grace Græme grey hand harp head hear heard heart held Highland hill isle James kind king knew Lady lake land light lives look Lord lost loud maid maiden Malcolm meet midnight moat morning mountain ne'er night Note o'er pass persons plaid pride race rest rock Roderick rose round Scotland Scottish seen side sire sleep song sought sound speed stand step stood strange stranger sword tear tell thee thine thou thought Till trees turn vision wake wave wild wind wood young youth
Page 128 - He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font, reappearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest.
Page 48 - Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking ; Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more : Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
Page 49 - No rude sound shall reach thine ear, Armour's clang, or war-steed champing Trump nor pibroch summon here Mustering clan, or squadron tramping. Yet the lark's shrill fife may come At the daybreak from the fallow, And the bittern sound his drum, Booming from the sedgy shallow. Ruder sounds shall none be near, Guards nor warders challenge here, Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing, Shouting clans, or squadrons stamping.
Page 80 - Moor'd in the rifted rock, Proof to the tempest's shock, Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow; Menteith and Breadalbane, then, Echo his praise agen, Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
Page 81 - Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highlands ! Stretch to your oars, for the evergreen Pine...
Page 208 - ... seen above the middle, death is not to be expected for the space of a year, and perhaps some months longer ; and as it is frequently seen to ascend higher towards the head, death is concluded to be at hand within a few days, if not hours, as daily experience confirms.
Page 207 - At the sight of a vision, the eyelids of the person are erected, and the eyes continue staring until the object vanish. This is obvious to others who are by, when the persons happen to see a vision, and occurred more than once to my own observation, and to others that were with me.
Page 23 - And turned him from the opposing rock ; Then, dashing down a darksome glen, Soon lost to hound and hunter's ken, In the deep Trosach's wildest nook His solitary refuge took.
Page 107 - TIME rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore, Who danced our infancy upon their knee, And told our marvelling boyhood legends store Of their strange ventures happed by land or sea, How are they blotted from the things that be!