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Or did misfortune's bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a', to share it a'." The voice ceased; the banjo thrummed on. Olga's hands were fast gripped upon the marble lattice-work. She stood tense, with white face upraised. The Rajah was wholly forgotten by her, and he stepped silently away to join another of his guests.
"Well, Larry McManus," said Bart, cheerfully, "how came you in this barn so far away from Oireland a night like this?" "Seein' as yer another gintleman o' the road in the same ploice, what more loike than the misfortune's the same?" replied he, lengthening his lower lip and stretching his stubby chin, which he scratched cautiously.
I'm a poor lad, haven't a soul in the world that wishes me well; my father's dead, my mother too, and my sisters are all looking out for themselves. Misfortune's my lot in this world; if I get sick, nobody wants me, and if I die they'll bury me like a dog, and not a soul will cry over me. Oh, why don't they kill the like of me when we come into the world!"
This ancient fortress of my race Shall be misfortune's resting-place, Shelter or shield of the distressed, No slaughter-house of shipwrecked guest!" "Talk not to me," fierce Lorn replied, "Of odds or match! When Comyn died, Three daggers clashed within his side! Talk not to me of sheltering hall, The church of God saw Comyn fall!
Day after day, week after week, Alwin sat waiting to see where the next turn of misfortune's wheel would land him. Interesting people visited the booth continually. Now it was a party of royal guardsmen to buy weapons, splendid mail-clad giants who ate at King Olaf's board, slept a his hall, and fought to the death at his side.
She saw, through whatever might be the vessel, the spirit of the woman; as the upper nobility of our brood are enabled to do in a crisis mixed of moral aversion and sisterly sympathy, when nature cries to them, and the scales of convention, the mud-spots of accident, even naughtiness, even wickedness, all misfortune's issue, if we but see the one look upward, fall away.
Oh, wert thou in the cauld blast On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee: Or did misfortune's bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a', to share it a'.
Gray is too good a poet for people to read nowadays, otherwise I should refer you to his lines in the 'Ode to Eton College, "'See how all around us wait The ministers of human fate, And black Misfortune's baleful train. "Meanwhile it is something to enjoy the present.
And such thy strength-inspiring aid that bore The hardy Byron from his native shore. In torrid climes, where Chiloe's tempests sweep Tumultuous murmurs o'er the troubled deep, 'Twas his to mourn misfortune's rudest shock, Scourged by the winds and cradled by the rock.
"Best suits my fate, best suits the hue, in this misfortune's day; Not green, not white nor purple, but the palmer's garb of gray. I ask no plumes for helm or cap of nature's living green, For hope has vanished from my life of that which might have been! And from my target will I blot the blazon that is vain The lynx whose eyes are fixed upon the prey that it would gain.
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