The Celtic magazine, conducted by A. Mackenzie and A. MacGregor, Том 3Alexander Mackenzie 1878 |
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Сторінка 351 - For an angel went down at a certain season into the pool, and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had.
Сторінка 105 - Then Paul stood in the midst of Mars' Hill, and said, Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too superstitious. For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscription, TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you.
Сторінка 93 - The schoolboy, wandering through the wood To pull the primrose gay, Starts, the new voice of spring to hear, And imitates thy lay. What time the pea puts on the bloom, Thou fliest thy vocal vale, An annual guest in other lands, Another spring to hail. Sweet bird ! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear ; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year...
Сторінка 359 - They have one season — all are ours to die ! Thou art where billows foam, Thou art where music melts upon the air; Thou art around us in our peaceful home, And the world calls us forth — and thou art there. Thou art where friend meets friend, Beneath the shadow of the elm to rest — Thou art where foe meets foe, and trumpets rend The skies, and swords beat down the princely crest.
Сторінка 29 - Take, oh take those lips away, That so sweetly were forsworn ; And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn : But my kisses bring again, , bring again, ' . -' Seals of love, but seal'd in vain.
Сторінка 474 - the graceful mien and manly looks," which our popular Scotch song has justly attributed to that character. He had his Tartan plaid thrown about him, a large blue bonnet with a knot of black...
Сторінка 94 - O Mary, canst thou wreck his peace, Wha for thy sake wad gladly die? Or canst thou break that heart of his, Whase only faut is loving thee? If love for love thou wilt na gie, At least be pity to me shown ! A thought ungentle canna be The thought o
Сторінка 96 - I heard a fair one cry; But give to me the snoring breeze And white waves heaving high; And white waves heaving high, my boys, The good ship tight and free — The world of waters is our home, And merry men are we. There's tempest in yon horned moon, And lightning in yon cloud; And hark the music, mariners! The wind is piping loud; The wind is piping loud, my boys, The lightning flashes free — While the hollow oak our palace is, Our heritage the sea.
Сторінка 27 - Holy God ! Holy and Mighty, Holy and Immortal ! have mercy upon us !" and this gave rise to the litany.
Сторінка 96 - A WET sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast And fills the white and rustling sail And bends the gallant mast, And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. " Oh for a soft and gentle wind...