The Queen's Wake: A Legendary Poem

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Andrew Balfour, 1813 - Scottish literature - 353 pages

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Page 320 - Blest be his generous heart for aye ! He told me where the relic lay ; Pointed my way with ready will, Afar on Ettrick's wildest hill ; Watched my first notes with curious eye, And wondered at my minstrelsy : He little weened a parent's tongue Such strains had o'er my cradle sung.
Page 136 - Macgregor, Macgregor, remember our foemen ; The moon rises broad from the brow of Ben-Lomond ; The clans are impatient, and chide thy delay ; Arise ! let us bound to Glen-Lyon away." — , / • Stern scowled the Macgregor, then silent and sullen, He turned his red eye to the braes of Strathfillan ; " Go, Malcolm, to sleep, let the clans be dismissed; The Campbells this night for Macgregor must rest...
Page 139 - M'Nab, in the height of his pride, When the lions of Dochart stood firm by his side. This night the proud chief his presumption shall rue ; Rise, brother, these chinks in his heart-blood will glue: Thy fantasies frightful shall flit on the wing, When loud with thy bugle Glen-Lyon shall ring.
Page 138 - I'd fly ! The thrice threatened pangs of last night to forego, Macgregor would dive to the mansions below. Despairing and mad, to futurity blind, The present to shun and some respite to find, I swore, ere the shadow fell east from the pile, To meet her alone by the brook of Glen-Gyle. "She told me, and turned my chilled heart to a stone, Th...
Page 321 - He tried to wile my harp away. Just when her notes began with skill, To sound beneath the southern hill, And twine around my bosom's core, How could we part for evermore ? 'Twas kindness all — I cannot blame — For bootless is the minstrel flame ; But sure a bard might well have known Another's feelings by his own...
Page 169 - O ! blest be the day Kilmeny was born ! Now shall the land of the spirits see, Now shall it ken what a woman may be ! The sun that shines on the world sae bright, A borrowed gleid frae the fountain of light ; And the moon that sleeks...
Page 138 - Last night, in my chamber, all thoughtful and lone, I called to remembrance some deeds I had done, When entered a lady, with visage so wan, And looks, such as never were fastened on man. I knew her, O brother ! I knew her too well !
Page 6 - Light on her airy steed she sprung, Around with golden tassels hung, No chieftain there rode half so free, Or half so light and gracefully. How sweet to see her ringlets pale Wide waving in the southland gale, Which through the broom-wood blossoms flew, To fan her, cheeks of rosy hue ! Whene'er it heaved her bosom's screen, What beauties in her form were seen ! And when her courser's mane it swung, A thousand silver bells were rung.
Page 139 - That the pine, which for ages had shed a bright halo, Afar on the mountains of Highland Glen-Falo, Should wither and fall ere the turn of yon moon, Smit through by the canker of hated Colquhoun : That a feast on Macgregors each day should be common, For years, to the eagles of Lennox and Lomond.
Page 8 - Slowly she ambled on her way Amid her lords and ladies gay. Priest, abbot, layman, all were there. And Presbyter with look severe. There rode the lords of France and Spain, Of England, Flanders, and Lorraine, While serried thousands round them stood, From shore of Leith to Holyrood.

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