. A birthday book : in Gaelic and English : selected from "Ossian", Sheriff Nicolson's "Proverbs," and other sources. n aisliug gu d thrian. Bi dh an smaointean aoibhneach s an t-shuain dh aisigeas,an luaidh gu m beachd. Short lived is all rule, but the rule of gèarr gach reachd ach riaghailt Dhe. Au(/ud 0 Why were our souls so close entwined,Why so fast bound our hearts %And why art thou torn from me I left in sadness all alone % Com an robh ar crldh air an sniomh co dlù n ar com 1 Is com a spiùnadh thusa uam, S an d f hàgadh mise gu truagh trùm 1 Bargo
. A birthday book : in Gaelic and English : selected from "Ossian", Sheriff Nicolson's "Proverbs," and other sources. n aisliug gu d thrian. Bi dh an smaointean aoibhneach s an t-shuain dh aisigeas,an luaidh gu m beachd. Short lived is all rule, but the rule of gèarr gach reachd ach riaghailt Dhe. Au(/ud 0 Why were our souls so close entwined,Why so fast bound our hearts %And why art thou torn from me I left in sadness all alone % Com an robh ar crldh air an sniomh co dlù n ar com 1 Is com a spiùnadh thusa uam, S an d f hàgadh mise gu truagh trùm 1 Bargo The house is dark, but the heart is n tidi dorcha, ach an cridhe soilleir. Aug ad 6 These things pierced my heart; Though I had ever deemed That in me dwelt no heart of flesh, But one of holly-spikes—all over clad in steel. Ghon na nithean ud mo chridhe ;Ged a shaoil mi roimhe riamh,Nach ciidhe feòla bha n am chliabh Ach cri de ghuin à chuilinn, air a chomlidachadh le stàilinn. Laoidh the smoke thats within that comes in deathach a bhios astigh a thig a mach. 166. Pour forth both wail and praise as due ;Pour them oer victorious Erin, till the sword repose be-neath the song. Taom tuire us luaidh nan am, Taom iad air Eirinn nam buadh, gus an siolaidh a chruaidhfo dhàn. Temora He is better fed than bred. Is f hèarr a bhiadhadh na ionnsachadh. A Iulist Ò — What is redder than blood ? The face of a worthy man when guests come to his houseand no food to give them. Ciod is deirge na fuil 1Gnùis duine f hialaidhN uair thig aoidhean d a thigh, s gun bhiadh ann. Fionns the coming, speed the parting an t-aoidh a thig, greas an t-aoidh tha falbh. Let me hear thee sing, like the soft spring Which wakens the hunter in the pass of hears the joying of ghosts—their cold refrains oer themountain side. Cluinneam r a luaidh dodhàn, do dhàn mar aitealan earraichDol thairis air sealg
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookpublisherlondo, bookyear1885
