Waverley, Or, 'Tis Sixty Years Since

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New York Publishing Company, 1895 - Jacobite Rebellion, 1745-1746 - 372 pages
 

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Page 155 - MY HEART'S IN THE HIGHLANDS FAREWELL to the Highlands, farewell to the North, The birthplace of valor, the country of worth! Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love. Chorus My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here, My heart's in the Highlands a-chasing the deer, A-chasing the wild deer and following the roe — My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go!
Page 130 - Tis the summons of heroes for conquest or death, When the banners are blazing on mountain and heath: They call to the dirk, the claymore, and the targe, To the march and the muster, the line and the charge.
Page 27 - I must modestly admit I am too diffident of my own merit to place it in unnecessary opposition to preconceived associations ; I have, therefore, like a maiden knight with his white shield, assumed for my hero, WAVERLEY, an uncontaminated name, bearing with its sound little of good or evil, excepting -what the reader shall hereafter be pleased to affix to it...
Page 37 - I believe one reason why such numerous instances of erudition occur among the lower ranks is, that, with the same powers of mind, the poor student is limited to a narrow circle for indulging his passion for books, and must necessarily make himself master of the few he possesses ere he can acquire more.
Page 240 - He saw a party of the foot, who were then bravely fighting near him, and whom he was ordered to support, had no officer to head them ; upon which he said eagerly, in the hearing of the person from whom I had this account, ' These brave follows will be cut to pieces for want of a commander...
Page 360 - WAKEN, lords and ladies gay, On the mountain dawns the day, All the jolly chase is here, With hawk, and horse, and hunting-spear ! Hounds are in their couples yelling, Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, Merrily, merrily, mingle they,
Page 324 - There, in a gloomy hollow glen, she found A little cottage built of sticks and reeds, In homely wise, and wall'd with sods around, In which a witch did dwell in loathly weeds, And wilful want, all careless of her needs; So choosing solitary to abide Far from all neighbours, that her devilish deeds, And hellish arts, from people she might hide, And hurt far off, unknown, whomsoever she espied.
Page 329 - I was only ganging to say, my lord," said Evan, in what he meant to be an insinuating manner, " that if your excellent honour, and the honourable Court, would let Vich Ian Vohr go free just this once, and let him gae back to France, and no to trouble King George's government again, that ony six o...
Page 27 - Waverley, a Tale of other Days," must not every novel reader have anticipated a castle scarce less than that of Udolpho, of which the eastern wing had long been uninhabited, and the keys either lost, or consigned to the care of some aged butler or housekeeper, whose trembling steps, about the middle of the second volume, were doomed to guide the liero or the heroine to the ruinous precincts?
Page 78 - Hie away, hie away, Over bank and over brae, Where the copsewood is the greenest, Where the fountains glisten sheenest, Where the lady-fern grows strongest, Where the morning dew lies longest. Where the black-cock sweetest sips it, Where the fairy latest trips it: Hie to haunts right seldom seen, Lovely, lonesome, cool, and green, Over bank and over brae, Hie away, hie away. " Do the verses he sings," asked Waveiley, " belong to the old Scottish poelry.

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