Mador of the Moor: A Poem

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William Blackwood, 1816 - Electronic books - 140 pages

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Page 11 - To drive the deer with hound and horn Earl Percy took his way ; The child may rue that is unborn The hunting of that day.
Page 108 - Rule the ouphes and elves at will That vex the air or haunt the hill, And all the fury subject keep Of boiling cloud and chafed deep ! I have seen, and well I know it ! Thou hast done, and Thou wilt do it ! God of stillness and of motion ! Of the rainbow and the ocean ! Of the mountain, rock, and river ! Blessed be Thy name for ever ! I have seen Thy wond'rous might Through the shadows of...
Page 11 - The stout Earl of Northumberland A vow to God did make, His pleasure in the Scottish woods Three...
Page 108 - BLESSED be Thy name for ever, Thou of life the guard and giver ; Thou canst guard thy creatures sleeping ; Heal the heart long broke with weeping.
Page 109 - God of evening's yellow ray ; God of yonder dawning day, That rises from the distant sea Like breathings of eternity ! Thine the flaming sphere of light ! Thine the darkness of the night ! Thine are all the gems of even, God of angels ! God of heaven ! God of life, that fade shall never ! Glory to Thy name for -ever ! 23.
Page 21 - Then, foiled and chafed to rage, roll down the broken steep. First died upon the peaks the golden hue, And o'er them spread a beauteous purple screen ; Then rose a shade of pale cerulean blue, Softening the hills and hazy vales between : Deeper and deeper grew the magic scene, As darker shades of the night-heaven came on ; No star along the firmament was seen, But solemn majesty prevailed alone Around the brows of Eve, upon her Grampian throne.
Page 77 - Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry, But my love's heart grown cauld to me. When we came in by Glasgow town, We were a comely sight to see; My love was clad in the black velvet, And I mysel
Page 92 - Wake half the night, and toil the live-long day; And when proud manhood o'er thy brow shall play, For me thy bow in forest shall be strung. The memory of my errors shall decay, And of the song of shame I oft have sung, Of father far away, and mother all too young ! 27.
Page 77 - And fades awa' like morning dew. O wherefore should I busk my head? Or wherefore should I kame my hair? For my true Love has me forsook, And says he'll never loe me mair.

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