Transactions and Proceedings, Том 1

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Society at the Perthshire Natural History Museum., 1893
 

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Сторінка 64 - O earth, what changes hast thou seen ! There where the long street roars hath been The stillness of the central sea. The hills are shadows, and they flow From form to form, and nothing stands ; They melt like mist, the solid lands, Like clouds they shape themselves and go.
Сторінка vii - THINK what a price to pay, Faces so bright and gay, Just for a hat ! Flowers unvisited, mornings unsung, Sea-ranges bare of the wings that o'erswung, — Bared just for that! Think of the others, too, Others and mothers, too, Bright-Eyes in hat ! Hear you no mother-groan floating in air, Hear you no little moan, — birdlings...
Сторінка cxlii - LOUD is the Vale ! the Voice is up With which she speaks when storms are gone, A mighty Unison of streams ! Of all her Voices, One ! Loud is the Vale ; — this inland Depth In peace is roaring like the Sea ; Yon Star upon the mountain-top Is listening quietly.
Сторінка viii - Turk, Just for your hat ! Plenty of mother-heart yet in the world : All the more wings to tear, carefully twirled ! Women want that ? Oh, but the shame of it, Oh, but the blame of it, — Price of a hat ! Just for a jauntiness brightening the street ! This is your halo, O faces so sweet, — Death : and for that ! NOT ALL THERE ' The innocents, of whom the Scotch say,
Сторінка 100 - ... dwarf by their great size the nearer eminences into the mere protuberances of an uneven plain. Their mural character has the effect of adding to their apparent magnitude. Almost devoid of vegetation, we see them barred...
Сторінка lxxviii - The common people keep as a great secret in curing wounds, the leaves of the elder which they have gathered the last day of April ; which, to disappoint the charms of witches, they had affixed to their dores and windows.
Сторінка cxxxviii - Stand before you, at rather a late period of life, to thank you for the honour you have conferred upon me, in electing me your...
Сторінка lxxix - The monarch oak, the patriarch of the trees, Shoots rising up, and spreads by slow degrees; Three centuries he grows, and three he stays, Supreme in state, and in three more decays...
Сторінка lxxix - Silence surrounds its path on high ; Near it is the peal of storms. Swaran saw the king of Morven in his path, And turned his hand from the pursuit. Dark he leaned upon his spear, 330 His red eye rolling along the field. Silent and great was the prince, Like an oak-tree, hoary, on Lubar, Stripped of its thick and aged boughs By the keen lightning of the skies : 335 It bends across the stream from the hill ; Its moss sounds in the wind like hair — attends its slow progress aloft ; but the tempest...
Сторінка clxxiv - Dura Den, a Monograph of the Yellow Sandstone and its remarkable Fossil remains.

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