Through Romany Songland

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Page 48 - To their fathers and mothers having risen Out of some subterraneous prison Into which they were trepanned Long time ago in a mighty band Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land, But how or why, they don't understand.
Page 87 - Aonian mount, while it pursues Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.
Page 171 - O no, O no, my gude Lord Hume, Forsooth and sae it mauna be ; For were there but three Graemes of the name They suld be hanged a
Page 85 - ... thou canst ; high Heaven rejects the lore Of nicely-calculated less or more ; So deemed the man who fashioned for the sense These lofty pillars, spread that branching roof Self-poised, and scooped into ten thousand cells, Where light and shade repose, where music dwells Lingering — and wandering on as loth to die; Like thoughts whose very sweetness yieldeth proof That they were born for immortality.
Page 170 - Then they hae grippit Hughie the Graeme, And brought him up through Carlisle town ; The lasses and lads stood on the walls, Crying," Hughie the Graeme, thou'se ne'er gae down...
Page 187 - Tracing the lines of life; assumed through years, Each feature now the steady falsehood wears: With hard and savage eye she views the food, And grudging pinches their intruding brood; Last in the group, the worn-out Grandsire sits Neglected, lost, and living but by fits: Useless...
Page 171 - O no, O no, my gude Lady Hume, Forsooth and so it must na be ; Were he but the one Graeme of the name, He suld be hanged high for me."
Page 176 - Twist ye, twine ye ! even so Mingle shades of joy and woe, Hope, and fear, and peace, and strife. In the thread of human life.
Page 172 - Of me my friends shall have small talk ; " And he has louped fifteen feet and three, Though his hands they were tied behind his back. He looked over his left shoulder, And for to see what he might see ; > There was he aware of his auld father, Came tearing his hair most piteouslie. " O hald your tongue, my father," he says, "And see that ye dinna weep for me ! For they may ravish me o' my life, . But they canna banish me fro
Page 187 - With gipsy-state engross'd the only chair; Solemn and dull her look; with such she stands, And reads the milk-maid's fortune in her hands, Tracing the lines of life; assumed through years, Each feature now the steady falsehood wears...

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