Summary

The Modern Scottish Minstrel, Volume 3

Perhaps no country contains a richer collection of love-songs than Scotland. We have a song for every phase of the motley-faced passion,—from its ludicrous aspect to its highest and most rapturous form. Every pulsation of the heart, as moved by love, has had its poetic expression; and we have lovers pouring out the depths of their souls to all kinds of maids, and in all kinds of situations. And maids are represented as bodying forth their feelings, also, under the sway of love. Many of these feminine lyrics are written by women themselves.
Source: Gutenberg

The Modern Scottish Minstrel, Volume 3

The heart-struck minstrel heard the word; and though his flame, uncured,
Still fired his soul, in haste the shores of danger he abjured:
But aye he rung his harp, though now it knew another strain,
And loud arose its warblings as the sounding of the main.
[Pg 276]
Yes! 'twas an organ peal that soar'd the vocal lift along,
As chorus'd to the high-strung harp his words of mightier song,
Lest, hapless chance! should rise, above the swelling of the tide,
A remnant of the ambitious love that sought a noble bride.
Source: Gutenberg

The Modern Scottish Minstrel, Volume 3

And by a blithe young shepherd did pass,
In the summer morning so early.
Said he, "My lass, will you go with me,
My cot to keep and my bride to be;
Sorrow and want shall never touch thee,
And I will love you rarely?"
"O! no, no, no!" the maiden said—
Sing heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho!—
And bashfully turn'd aside her head,
On that summer morning so early.
"My mother is old, my mother is frail,
Our cottage it lies in yon green dale;
I dare not list to any such tale,
For I love my kind mother rarely."
Source: Gutenberg

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