A book of Highland minstrelsy . gaiety. Returned to her dishonouredhome, heartbroken and a prey to her emotions, she knelt down by thecradle of her son and prayed that on the fathers head sorrow and retri-bution might descend, and that he might never know happiness in hishome or child in his wedlock. 38 CI)c teprccation hv tijc CratJlc. Her adjuration seemed a prophecy, for she who had filled her place inhis affections, learning the story of her hapless rival, conceived a violenthatred for her husband. So far did this dislike proceed that her mindbecame unsettled. She repeatedly attempted both
A book of Highland minstrelsy . gaiety. Returned to her dishonouredhome, heartbroken and a prey to her emotions, she knelt down by thecradle of her son and prayed that on the fathers head sorrow and retri-bution might descend, and that he might never know happiness in hishome or child in his wedlock. 38 CI)c teprccation hv tijc CratJlc. Her adjuration seemed a prophecy, for she who had filled her place inhis affections, learning the story of her hapless rival, conceived a violenthatred for her husband. So far did this dislike proceed that her mindbecame unsettled. She repeatedly attempted both her own and herhusbands life; and at last, confined to prevent fatal consequences, shedied a raving and a childless maniac. The boy, whose birth had brought misfortune on both his parentsand caused so much sorrow on all sides, grew to manhood, when hedistinguished himself greatly in the profession of arms, gaining bothhonour and wealth in his countrys service. Such are the romantic incidents of a story which is literally THE IMPRKCATTON BY THE CRADLE. PART I. Slumber sweet, my babie, Slumber peaeefulHe,Mickle grief and mickle wrang I have borne for thee ! 40 Ci;c ifmpvcffltton Iid tljc Cratllc. Hush thee, heir of sorrow ! Sleep and sleep away,All of thy fause fathers heart Mingled with thy clay. Dinna wear his likeness,Dinna smile his smile ; I should hate thee, that look of guile ! Dinna speak his accents, Lest my heart of fireSpurn the child for blandishments Borrowed from the sire. Faint with mother-anguish From my bed I rose,Kamed the locks he praised so weel. Donned my richest clothes. Danced amang the blythest. Gay as ony bride,All the weakness of my limbs Iron-braced by pride. Ci)f ihnpiffatton hv tl)t Cradle. 41 Fair is Lady Ellen, He her hand did hold,Breathed to her the flatteries Breathed to me of old. Dancing down the measure, Neer his thoughts could beHow to him a child was born That dark day by me. Oh ! ye dreams of vengeance, Which the injure
Size: 1758px × 1421px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1840, bookidbookofhighlandmi00ogilric
