Popular Tales of the West Highlands, Volume 4

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Edmonston and Douglas, 1862 - Tales, Gaelic

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The stories were good, and some were new to me; but there were a great many variations on the tale of the giant/monster/creature whose soul was kept in a succession of animals within each other, and ... Read full review

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Page 355 - On Tintock tap there is a mist, And in the mist there is a kist, And in the kist there is a cup, And in the cup there is a drap; Tak up the cup and drink the drap, And set the cup on Tintock tap. -. There was a popular tale about this mountain which I
Page 248 - over his secret stream? Is this a time for sorrow, father of low-laid Oscar?”. . . “Such were the words of the bards in the days of song; when the king heard the music of harps—the tales of other times! The chiefs gathered from all the hills and heard the lovely sound. They heard and praised the voice of
Page 289 - the chief leaper of Ireland was he. There is the nimble man who could run over the tops of the trees. There is Clust Reinad ((?) cluas an ear), “though he were buried seven cubits beneath the earth he could hear the ant fifty miles off rise from her nest in the morning.
Page 483 - to wear or put on the clothes commonly called Highland Clothes, that is to say, the plaid, philibeg or little kilt, trowse, shoulder belts, or any part whatsoever of what peculiarly belongs to the Highland Garb; and that no Tartan or party-coloured Plaid, or
Page 380 - plaited round the middle of the body, the upper part being fixed on the left shoulder, ready to be thrown loose, and wrapped over both shoulders and firelock in rainy weather. At night the plaid served the purpose of a blanket, and was a sufficient covering for the Highlander.
Page 107 - could never learn that any one had ever heard, or could repeat the original of any one paragraph of the pretended translation.” John Home, Mackenzie, Laing, and nearly every man of mark of that time, down to Humboldt and Lamartine of our own times, have all held
Page 271 - and mice and such small deer, Was his meat that seven year.” Sir Bevis, like the man in Murdoch MacBrian, and other heroes, comes disguised as a poor man, and is recognised by his love. Lions are like Conall's lions, they kill and devour a man and his horse, but lay their heads in the lap of a
Page 105 - (which was illuminated, and therefore old, and which is believed to be somewhere in Edinburgh now), execrating the bard who dictated to the amanuensis, saying, d—n the scoundrel, it is he himself that now speaks, and not Ossian.” This took place in my house in two or three instances. He
Page 150 - Hast thou left thy blue course in heaven, Golden haired son of the sky! The west has opened its gates; The bed of thy repose is there. 2 The waves come To behold thy beauty, They lift their trembling heads; They see thee lovely in thy sleep. 3 They shrink away with fear; Rest in thy shadowy cave, 0 sun! 4 Let thy return be in joy.
Page 270 - Lancelot wist what was her will, Well he knew, by other mo; Her brother cleped he him till; And to her chamber gonne they go.” The rhythm is nearly that of the old Irish air “The Groves of Blarney,” and probably the whole series of traditions, English, Scotch, Welsh, Breton, German, and Irish, have

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