. A birthday book : in Gaelic and English : selected from "Ossian", Sheriff Nicolson's "Proverbs," and other sources. crathaidh osag mhall a sgiath. Proverb. Garric Thura. Anger may look in on a wise mans heart, but it abides in the heart of a fooLFaodaidh fearg sealltain a steach an cridh an duine ghlic, ach còmhnaicliidh i n cridh an amadain. Eaise, Ullin, raise the song of peace ; let my soul have restfrom strife of war ; Let the noise ebb far from my ear, the noisy din of war-riors steel. Tog, Ullin, tog fonn na sith, sioladh m auam o stri nam blàr :Traoghadli o mo chluais am fuaim, trom f
. A birthday book : in Gaelic and English : selected from "Ossian", Sheriff Nicolson's "Proverbs," and other sources. crathaidh osag mhall a sgiath. Proverb. Garric Thura. Anger may look in on a wise mans heart, but it abides in the heart of a fooLFaodaidh fearg sealltain a steach an cridh an duine ghlic, ach còmhnaicliidh i n cridh an amadain. Eaise, Ullin, raise the song of peace ; let my soul have restfrom strife of war ; Let the noise ebb far from my ear, the noisy din of war-riors steel. Tog, Ullin, tog fonn na sith, sioladh m auam o stri nam blàr :Traoghadli o mo chluais am fuaim, trom fbarum nan cruaidhaig sàh. Fingal They heard the music, but understood not the a chual lad an ceòl, cha do thuig iad am port. Mcdch J Joy thrilled the soul of Oscar, joy familiar to the hero, When wakes the war-horn of the king. Chrith anam an Oscair le solas, Le solas a b àbhaist do n triath, N uair ghluaiseadh còrn-caismeachd an righ. Temora 1. Proverb. There never was a burst of joy, that deep grief did not robh meadliail mhòr riamh, gun dubh-bhròn n a deigh. 48 Marcli 1. In peace, thou art the breath of Spring ;In war, a rocky pillar in the storm. An sith s tu aiteal an earraich ; An còmhrag s ta carragh s an stoirm. Fingal 6. Proverb. May your pulse beat as your heart would wish !Run do chridhe air do chuisle ! We sjiread the snowy sail, and rode oer the wave with song ;The joy of the warriors was great oer the white foam of the hoary deep. Sgaoil sinn na siuil bhàn, agus dh eirich sinn air tuinn le fonn ;Bha solas nan sonn gu mòr air cobhar ban an domhain ghlais. Fingal 6. wind ever blew that did not fill some do sheid gaoth riamh nach robh an sèol cuid-eigin. Never again shall I draw the sword ;Gone is my fame with deeds that are gone ;I sit by the grave alone,—the grave of noble friends whoare no more. Cha tharruing mi lann na s mo—Dh flialbh mo chliù air ghniomh a bh ann ;Suidheamsa air uaigh fo bhròn,
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookpublisherlondo, bookyear1885
