Så tycker andra - Skriv en recension
Vi kunde inte hitta några recensioner.
Andra upplagor - Visa alla
Poems of Places: Scotland, Denmark, Iceland, Norway, and Sweden
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1876
Airly Beacon amang amid Auchtertool auld Ben Lomond beneath Bennachie bird birks birks of Aberfeldy Blaavin blaw blithe bloom blue bonnie lass bosom bower braes Branksome Hall brave breast Brig bright Carmyle Castle Charlie clouds Clyde Craig Elachie Craigcrook Craigcrook Roses Craigie Lea dark David Macbeth Moir dear deep Deloraine Doon dream fair Farewell flow flowers frae Gadie rins gather gleaming glen gray green Grigalach ha'e hath heart heaven Highland hills hundred pipers land lassie Lochiel Lomond lone loud Maggie maid of Dunmore Mary mony morning mountain mourn ne'er never night o'er proud river roar Robert Burns Robert Tannahill rock round sang scene Scotia's Scotland shade shore sing Sir Walter Scott smile solitude Stand fast stray stream sweet sword thee thine towers tree vale wander wave weary wild William Motherwell William Wordsworth wind
Sida 1 - BREATHES there the man with soul so dead Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go mark him well...
Sida 168 - Lo !. the death-shot of foemen outspeeding, he rode Companionless, bearing destruction abroad ; But down let him stoop from his havoc on high ! Ah ! home let him speed — for the spoiler is nigh. Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast, Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast ? 'Tis the fire-shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven From his eyrie, that beacons the darkness of heaven. Oh, crested Lochiel ! the peerless in might, Whose banners arise on the battlements...
Sida 73 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha for Scotland's king and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw...
Sida 55 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi...
Sida 170 - Though my perishing ranks should be strewed in their gore, Like ocean-weeds heaped on the surf-beaten shore, Lochiel, untainted by flight or by chains, While the kindling of life in his bosom remains, Shall victor exult, or in death be laid low, With his back to the field, and his feet to the foe ! And leaving in battle no blot on his name, Look proudly to heaven from the death-bed of fame.
Sida 197 - I have almost forgot the taste of fears : The time has been, my senses would have cool'd To hear a night-shriek ; and my fell of hair Would at a dismal treatise rouse and stir As life were in 't : I have supp'd full with horrors ; Direness, familiar to my slaughterous thoughts, Cannot once start me.
Sida 25 - Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides, And winds by the cot where my Mary resides; How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave, As gathering sweet flowerets, she stems thy clear wave.
Sida 183 - YE banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair; How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu' o
Sida 39 - Kate soon will be a woefu' woman! Now, do thy speedy utmost, Meg, And win the keystane of the brig; There, at them thou thy tail may toss, A running stream they dare na cross! But ere the keystane she could make, The fient a tail she had to shake; For Nannie, far before the rest, Hard upon noble Maggie prest, And flew at Tarn wi' furious ettle; But little wist she Maggie's mettle!