Scottish tragic ballads [ed. by J. Pinkerton.]., Volume 1

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1781 - 130 pages
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Page 1 - And guidly Chambers fair to fe, Quhair he lodgit mony a Knicht. His Dame fae peirlefs anes and fair, For Chaft and Bewtie deimt, Nae Marrow had in all the Land, Saif Elenor the Quene.
Page xxxiii - Dream, as quoted in the second Dissertation, prefixed by Mr Pinkerton to his Select Scottish Ballads, 2 vols. The dreamer journeys towards heaven, accompanied and assisted by a celestial guide : Through dreadful dens, which made my heart aghast, He bare me up when I began to tire. Sometimes we clamb o'er craggy mountains high, And sometimes stay'd on ugly braes of sand ; They were so stay that wonder was to see : But, when I fear'd, he held me by the hand.
Page 16 - O haly God, for his deir sake, Wha savd us on the rude — He tint his praier, and drew his glaive, Yet reid wi Norland bluid. " Brayd on, brayd on, my stalwart...
Page 40 - And brocht him to his painted bowr, And laid him on a bed. The lady sat on castil wa', Beheld baith dale and doun ; And there she saw Gill Morice' head Cum trailing to the toun.
Page 3 - Then reid reid grew his dark-brown cheiks, Sae did his dark-brown brow ; His luiks grew kene, as they were wont In dangers great to do ; He...
Page 48 - Sall neir get guid o' me. Than sum they rade, and sum they riu, Fou fast out-owr the bent ; But eir the foremost could get up, Baith lady and babes were brent. He wrang his hands, he rent his hair, And wept in teenefu' muid : O traitors, for this cruel deid Ze sall weep teirs o' bluid. And after the Gordon he is gane, Sa fast as he might drie. And soon i' the Gordon's foul hartis bluid He's wroken his dear ladie.
Page 46 - " Ye paid me weil my hire, lady, Ye paid me weil my fee, But now I'm Edom o' Gordon's man, Maun either do or die.
Page 104 - ... him, his wound, whereof he died, bled not; but incontinent after the taking of them away, the blood gushed out in great abundance, to the great admiration of all the beholders; an infamy which hath followed and spotted the race of this house for many descents, as is notoriously known to the whole country.
Page 35 - I dare nae for my life; I'll no gae to the bauld barons, For to triest furth his wife.
Page 43 - It fell about the Martinmas, When the wind blew shrill and cauld, Said Edom o' Gordon to his men, ' We maun draw to a hauld. 'And whatna hauld sall we draw to, My merry men and me? We will gae to the house of the Rodes, To see that fair ladye.

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