Dialects for Oral Interpretation: Selections and Discussion

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Century Company, 1922 - Acting - 308 pages

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Page 58 - Thou minds me o' the happy days When my fause Luve was true. Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird That sings beside thy mate; For sae I sat, and sae I sang, And wist na o' my fate. Aft hae I roved by bonnie Doon To see the woodbine twine, And ilka bird sang o' its love; And sae did I o
Page 58 - YE banks and braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair; How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu' o
Page 68 - Ye banks and braes and streams around The castle o' Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; For there I took the last fareweel O
Page 89 - An' look through Giuseppe weeth far-away stare, As eef she no see dere ees som'body dere. Giuseppe, da barber, he gotta da cash, He gotta da clo'es an' da bigga mustache, He gotta da seely young girls for da "mash," But notta — You bat my life, notta — Carlotta.
Page 69 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk , How rich the hawthorn's blossom , As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours, on angel wings, Flew o'er me and my dearie; For dear to me , as light and life , Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' monie a vow , and lock'd embrace , Our parting was fu' tender; And , pledging aft to meet again , We tore oursels asunder; But oh!
Page 69 - I aft hae kiss'd sae fondly ! And closed for aye the sparkling glance, That dwelt on me sae kindly ! And mouldering now in silent dust, That heart that loe'd me dearly ! But still within my bosom's core, Shall live my Highland Mary.
Page 199 - Corrymeela, an? the low south wind. D'ye mind me now, the song at night is mortial hard to raise, The girls are heavy goin' here, the boys are ill to plase ; When one'st I'm out this workin' hive, 'tis I'll be back again — Ay, Corrymeela, in the same soft rain.
Page 184 - ... her a blast to help her; and with that, my jewel, she tuk to her heels, flyin' like one o' the aigles themselves, and cuttin' as many capers as a swallow before a shower of rain.
Page 132 - Nebber min' de wedder," — She soun' like forty-lebben bands a-playin' all togedder; Some went to pattin'; some to dancin': Noah called de figgers; An' Ham he sot an' knocked de tune, de happiest ob niggers!
Page 58 - Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair! How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu' o' care! Thou'lt break my heart, thou warbling bird, That wantons thro' the flowering thorn : Thou minds me o' departed joys, Departed — never to return.

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