This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1853 edition. Excerpt: ... And still on 's sheeny tide, Those sea-maids sing, and braid their hair, Neath the green wave in circlets glide, And find their homes and lovers there. The common people in some of the Hebrides have an indistinct notion of beings who inhabit the depths of the sea. When they perceive pieces of matter ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1853 edition. Excerpt: ... And still on 's sheeny tide, Those sea-maids sing, and braid their hair, Neath the green wave in circlets glide, And find their homes and lovers there. The common people in some of the Hebrides have an indistinct notion of beings who inhabit the depths of the sea. When they perceive pieces of matter with which they are unacquainted, floating on the waves, they readily call them part of the roofs of the subaqueous dwellings, which, like their own, may perhaps need pretty frequent repair. There are still remote traditions of the wanderings of the royal Bruce in the Highlands, though confused with those of Montrose, and even of Prince Charles Edward;--so soon does tradition bewilder itself. The adventure of the bracelet of Bruce is still remembered. The Calliach nan Cruacltan bein, as she is called in Gaelic, is an old lady, who resides on the top of Cruachan: in other words, she is the demon of the storm;--and fancy could not have chosen for her a more appropriate residence. When anything ruffles her temper, she gathers me a handful of whirlwinds, descends in tempests to the lower regions, at one stride crosses Loch-Etive which she lashes up to a foaming fury, and till her rage abates, effectually prevents all passage at the ferry of Connal. In Highland diablerie, the Calliach is uniformly a greater favourite than the Bodach. The common people in the isles adjacent to Staffa, say, that thia island rests on five huge pillars, the shadows of which are thrown on the waves at sunset. It is not easy to tell how, nor is it proper to be too inquisitive in such cases;--Highlanders might well answer, "We have a vision of our own. Oh, why should we undo it V An old soldier, who had belonged to the Breadalbane fencibles, formerly lived on this...
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