The Universal Songster and Museum of Mirth: A Collection of Popular Songs, Том 2Gaylord, 1835 - 312 стор. |
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Сторінка 35
... July , 1827 . To the sages who spoke to the heroes who bled- To the day , and the deed - strike the harpstrings of glory , Let the song of the ransom'd remember the dead , NATIONAL SONGS . 35 To the sages who spoke, to the heroes who bled.
... July , 1827 . To the sages who spoke to the heroes who bled- To the day , and the deed - strike the harpstrings of glory , Let the song of the ransom'd remember the dead , NATIONAL SONGS . 35 To the sages who spoke, to the heroes who bled.
Сторінка 36
... dead , And the tongue of the eloquent hallow the story . O'er the bones of the bold , Be that story long told , And on Fame's golden tablets their triumphs enroll'd , Who on freedom's green hills , freedom's banner un- furl'd , And the ...
... dead , And the tongue of the eloquent hallow the story . O'er the bones of the bold , Be that story long told , And on Fame's golden tablets their triumphs enroll'd , Who on freedom's green hills , freedom's banner un- furl'd , And the ...
Сторінка 43
... dead , And kiss , the clay where he may be , Who sought his grave through liberty . Cease , wind , to blow , ' twixt earth and heaven ! Unless your moans for him are given , Then I unison will sigh Until the night has lingered by ...
... dead , And kiss , the clay where he may be , Who sought his grave through liberty . Cease , wind , to blow , ' twixt earth and heaven ! Unless your moans for him are given , Then I unison will sigh Until the night has lingered by ...
Сторінка 44
... dead , his country's shield . For , though no more he lives to fight , But only lives in memory's night , I at his tomb my vow will seal , And o'er his honored marble kneel . Cease , Pleasure , cease ! and think of him Who ne'er could ...
... dead , his country's shield . For , though no more he lives to fight , But only lives in memory's night , I at his tomb my vow will seal , And o'er his honored marble kneel . Cease , Pleasure , cease ! and think of him Who ne'er could ...
Сторінка 45
... Glen Luss and Ross - dhu , they are smoking in ruin , And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side . Widow and Saxon maid Long shall lament our raid , · Think of Clan - Alpine with fear and with Hail to our Chief who in triumph ...
... Glen Luss and Ross - dhu , they are smoking in ruin , And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side . Widow and Saxon maid Long shall lament our raid , · Think of Clan - Alpine with fear and with Hail to our Chief who in triumph ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
adieu arms auld lang syne Balloch banners Bay of Biscay blow blue bonnie lassie bosom bottle boys brave braw John breast knots bright Charlie charms cheek cheer cried dear Derry Dicky drink drum e'er ev'ry fair fame fear fight flowers Fol de riddle frae gallant girl glass glory grave heart Heaven Heigho Highland horn Jack John Anderson Kentucky kiss laddie lady land lass Lochinvar maid merrily merry morning ne'er never night o'er Paddy pibroch poor riddle lol roar Rob Roy Macgregor rose round Roy's wife sail sailor Sally Brown Scotland shellelagh shore sigh sing smile sodger soldier SONGS soon soul sound sprig Star-spangled Banner sure sweet tear tell thee thine thou thro trepan Troubadour true TUNE Twas wave wind wwwwwww Yankee young young Jessie
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 73 - River where ford there was none: But ere he alighted at Netherby gate The bride had consented, the gallant came late: For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
Сторінка 29 - Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there. Oh, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Сторінка 171 - By the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain, At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw; And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.
Сторінка 21 - When Freedom, from her mountain height, Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there; She mingled with its gorgeous dyes The milky baldric of the skies, And striped its pure, celestial white With streakings of the morning light; Then, from his mansion in the sun, She called her eagle bearer down, And gave into his mighty hand, The symbol of her chosen land.
Сторінка 175 - Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Сторінка 30 - Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave ; And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.
Сторінка 268 - Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home ; A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there, Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere. Home ! home ! sweet, sweet home ! There's no place like home...
Сторінка 26 - And the heavy night hung dark The hills and waters o'er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore. Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, came; Not with the roll of the stirring drums, And the trumpet that sings of fame; Not as the flying come, In silence and in fear;— They shook the depths of the desert gloom With their hymns of lofty cheer.
Сторінка 74 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; Forsters...
Сторінка 75 - 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!