Black's Picturesque Tourist of Scotland (Google eBook)

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Black, 1861 - Scotland - 635 pages
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Page 476 - Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses ; whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future, predominate over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings. Far from me and from my friends, be such frigid philosophy, as may conduct us, indifferent and unmoved, over any ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man is little to be envied whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the...
Page 85 - O'er Roslin all that dreary night, A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam; 'Twas broader than the watch-fire's light, And redder than the bright moonbeam. It glared on Roslin's castled rock, It ruddied all the copse-wood glen; 'Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oak, And seen from...
Page 422 - Thou know'st it well, nor fen, nor sedge, Pollute the pure lake's crystal edge ; Abrupt, and sheer, the mountains sink At once upon the level brink ; And just a trace of silver sand Marks where the water meets the land. Far in the mirror, bright and blue, Each hill's huge outline you may view...
Page 85 - Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew ! And, gentle ladye, deign to stay ! Rest thee in Castle Ravensheuch, Nor tempt the stormy firth to-day. ' The blackening wave is edged with white; To inch and rock the sea-mews fly; The fishers have heard the Water-Sprite, Whose screams forebode that wreck is nigh.
Page 420 - ... band, That knits me to thy rugged strand ! Still, as I view each well-known scene, Think what is now, and what hath been, Seems as, to me, of all bereft, Sole friends thy woods and streams were left ; And thus I love them better still, Even in extremity of ill. By Yarrow's stream still let me stray, Though none should guide my feeble way ; Still feel the breeze down Ettrick break, Although it chill my withered cheek ; Still lay my head by Teviot stone.
Page 342 - Shades of the dead ! have I not heard your voices Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale ?' Surely the soul of the hero rejoices, And rides on the wind, o'er his own Highland vale.
Page 342 - AVAY, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses ! In you let the minions of luxury rove ; Restore me the rocks, where the snow-flake reposes, Though still they are sacred to freedom and love...
Page 232 - And near, and nearer as they rowed, Distinct the martial ditty flowed. XIX BOAT SONG Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances! Honoured and blessed be the ever-green Pine! Long may the tree, in his banner that glances, Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line!
Page 342 - I strode through the pine-cover'd glade : I sought not my home till the day's dying glory Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star ; For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story, Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch na Garr.
Page 104 - Twixt poplars straight, the osier wand In many a freakish knot had twined ; Then formed a spell, when the work was done, And changed the willow wreaths to stone.

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