A Week at Bridge of Allan ...

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Adam and Charles Black, 1853 - Bridge of Allan (Scotland) - 380 pages
 

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Page xxii - How often have I paused on every charm, The sheltered cot, the cultivated farm, The never-failing brook, the busy mill, The decent church that topt the neighbouring hill, The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade, For talking age and whispering lovers made...
Page 316 - — -he whistled shrill And he was answered from the hill ; Wild as the scream of the curlew, From crag to crag the signal flew.
Page 325 - With boughs that quaked at every breath, Grey birch and aspen wept beneath ; Aloft, the ash and warrior oak Cast anchor in the rifted rock ; And, higher yet, the pine-tree hung His shattered trunk, and frequent flung, Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high, His boughs athwart the narrowed sky.
Page 240 - There's some say that we wan, some say that they wan, Some say that nane wan at a', man : But one thing I'm sure, that at Sheriffmuir A battle there was, which I saw, man. And we ran, and they ran, and they ran, and we ran, And we ran, and they ran awa, man.
Page 173 - This is the place, — the centre of the grove ; — Here stands the oak, the monarch of the wood : How sweet and solemn is this midnight scene ! The silver moon unclouded holds her way Through skies where I could count each little star ; The fanning west wind scarcely stirs the leaves ; The river, rushing o'er its pebbled bed, Imposes silence with a stilly sound.
Page 176 - Ever charming, ever new, When will the landscape tire the view! The fountain's fall, the river's flow, The woody valleys warm and low; The windy summit, wild and high, Roughly rushing on the sky; The pleasant seat, the ruined tower, The naked rock, the shady bower; The town and village, dome and farm, Each give each a double charm, As pearls upon an Ethiop's arm.
Page 20 - Then, pilgrim, turn, thy cares forego, All earth-born cares are wrong ; Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long.
Page 324 - And turned him from the opposing rock ; Then, dashing down a darksome glen, Soon lost to hound and hunter's ken, In the deep Trosach's wildest nook His solitary refuge took.
Page 317 - Wild as the scream of the curlew, From crag to crag the signal flew. Instant, through copse and heath, arose Bonnets and spears and bended bows; On right, on left, above, below, Sprung up at once the lurking foe; From shingles grey their lances start, The bracken bush sends forth the dart, The rushes and the willow-wand Are bristling into axe and brand, And every tuft of broom gives life To plaided warrior armed for strife.
Page 297 - Lightly bounding together, Sport the lang summer day On the braes o' Balquhither. I will twine thee a bower By the clear siller fountain, And I'll cover it o'er Wi...

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