The Caledonian Muse: A Chronological Selection of Scottish Poetry from the Earliest TimesJoseph Ritson R. Triphook, 1821 - 232 pages |
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Common terms and phrases
baith bayth Becauſe befoir Beltane beſt cauſe Chryftis kirk doun Dreid dryve ev'ry evir faft faid fair fall fame faſt fcho feild feir fene fhall ficht filly fing firft firſt flain fome foul fould frae frome ftill fuld furth fweit fyre grene gude haif Haill hairt hald hame heart heid heir king knaw laft laſt Lord lyke maid mair Makyne maun micht mony muſt mynd myne nane neir nevir nocht o'er owre Peblis Phebus play pleaſure Quha Quhair Quhat Quhen Quhilk Quhois Quhyle quod Experience quod fcho Quoth raiſe Reafon reft richt Robene ſay ſcho Sir Penny ſtate ſweet thair thame thare Thay thee theſe thocht thoſe thou thow trew trow tyme uther wald weill whofe wyfe wyffe Yles zour
Popular passages
Page 152 - Well do I know thee by thy trusty yew, Cheerless, unsocial plant ; that loves to dwell 'Midst skulls and coffins, epitaphs and worms: Where light-heel'd ghosts, and visionary shades, Beneath the wan cold moon (as fame reports) Embodied, thick, perform their mystic rounds. No other merriment, dull tree, is thine.
Page 148 - Sure the last end Of the good man is peace. How calm his exit ! Night-dews fall not more gently to the ground, Nor weary worn-out winds expire so soft.
Page 140 - Strew'd with death's spoils, the spoils of animals, Savage and tame, and full of dead men's bones? The very turf on which we tread once liv'd ; And we that live must lend our carcasses To cover our own offspring : in their turns They too must cover theirs.
Page 139 - In the world's hale and undegenerate days Could scarce have leisure for. Fools that we are ! Never to think of Death and of ourselves At the same time : as if to learn to die Were no concern of ours.
Page 6 - Tane leif at nature with ane orient blast ; And lusty May, that muddir is of flouris, Had maid the birdis to begyn thair houris...
Page 139 - See yonder maker of the dead man's bed, The sexton, hoary-headed chronicle! Of hard unmeaning face, down which ne'er stole A gentle tear; with mattock in his hand, Digs thro* whole rows of kindred and acquaintance, By far his juniors.
Page 154 - Farewell, ye blooming fields ! ye cheerful plains ! Enough for me the church-yard's lonely mound, Where Melancholy with still Silence reigns, And the rank grass waves o'er the cheerless ground.
Page 152 - midst the wreck of things which were; There lie interr'd the more illustrious dead. The wind is up: hark ! how it howls ! Methinks Till now, I never heard a sound so dreary...
Page 149 - The rural pipe and merry lay No more shall cheer the happy day : No social scenes of gay delight Beguile the dreary winter night : No strains but those of sorrow flow, And...
Page 152 - Pass and repass, hush'd as the foot of Night. Again the screech-owl shrieks : ungracious sound ! I'll hear no more ; it makes one's blood run chill.