讀者評論 - 撰寫評論
beauty bird bless blooming blue bonnie boys brave bright charm cheer cold coming cried dance dark darling dear deep delight dream Erin eyes face fair faith fall farewell father fear flowers forget friends girl give gone green hand happy head hear heard heart hill hope hour I'll Ireland Irish isle John keep kiss lady land leave light live lonely look lover maid Mary meet merry Molly morning mother mountain native ne'er never night o'er once play poor roam rose round seen shine shore sigh sing sleep smile soft song soon sound stand star sure sweet tears tell thee there's thine thing thou thought tree true Twas voice waters wave wear weep wild wind young
第 15 頁 - I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter! — Oh, my daughter!
第 9 頁 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
第 112 頁 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha, for Scotland's King and Law, Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Free-man stand, or Free-man fa', Let him follow me!
第 8 頁 - 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?
第 51 頁 - He had lived for his love, for his country he died, They were all that to life had entwined him ; Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, Nor long will his love stay behind him.
第 54 頁 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.
第 160 頁 - ... flee, But I have no refuge from famine and danger, A home and a country remain not to me. Never again, in the green sunny bowers, Where my forefathers lived, shall I spend the sweet hours, .Or cover my harp with the wild-woven flowers, And strike to the numbers of Erin go bragh...
第 14 頁 - The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men, Their trampling sounded nearer. " O haste thee, haste!" the lady cries, "Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.
第 54 頁 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the ramparts we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly, at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning, By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast...