The Poetical Works of Walter Scott, Esq, Том 2

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Сторінка 76 - Like the noise of chariots on the tops of mountains shall they leap, like the noise of a flame of fire that devoureth the stubble, as a strong people set in battle array.
Сторінка 286 - In the proudly-arched chapel the banners are beaming; Far a-down the long aisle sacred music is streaming, Lamenting a chief of the people should fall. But meeter for thee, gentle lover of Nature, To lay down thy head like the meek mountain lamb, When 'wildered he drops from some cliff huge in stature, And draws his last sob by the side of his dam.
Сторінка 111 - gainst the English yew, To lift the Scottish spear. Yet his plate-jack was braced, and his helmet was laced, And his vaunt-brace of proof he wore ; At his saddle-gerthe was a good steel sperthe, Full ten pound weight and more. The baron returned in three days...
Сторінка 116 - In thy chamber will I be." — With that he was gone and my lady left alone, And no more did I see.' Then changed, I trow, was that bold baron's brow From the dark to the blood-red high ; ' Now, tell me the mien of the knight thou hast seen, For, by Mary, he shall die ! ' ' His arms shone full bright in the beacon's red light ; His plume it was scarlet and blue ; On his shield was a hound in a silver leash bound, And his crest was a branch of the yew.
Сторінка 286 - And, oh, was it meet, that— no requiem read o'er him— No mother to weep, and no friend to deplore him, And thou, little guardian, alone stretched before him— Unhonour'd the Pilgrim from life should depart?
Сторінка 175 - TRUE THOMAS lay on Huntlie bank ; A ferlie he spied wi' his ee ; And there he saw a ladye bright, Come riding down by the Eildon tree. Her shirt was o' the grass-green silk, Her mantle o' the velvet fyne ; At ilka tett of her horse's mane, Hung fifty siller bells and nine.
Сторінка 118 - Now hail, now hail, thou lady bright !" ' ' Now hail thou Baron true ! What news, what news, from Ancram fight? What news from the bold Buccleuch ? "The Ancram Moor is red with gore, For many a Southron fell ; And Buccleuch has charged us, evermore To watch our beacons well.
Сторінка 103 - Sight is an impression made either by the mind upon the eye, or by the eye upon the mind, by which things distant or future are perceived, and seen as if they were present.
Сторінка 137 - Through the huge oaks of Evandale, Whose limbs a thousand years have worn, What sullen roar comes down the gale, And drowns the hunter's pealing horn ? Mightiest of all the beasts of chase, That roam in woody Caledon, Crashing the forest in his race, The Mountain Bull comes thundering on. Fierce, on the hunter's quiver'd band, He rolls his eyes of swarthy glow, Spurns, with black hoof and horn, the sand, And tosses high his mane of snow.
Сторінка 115 - He turn'd him around, and grimly he frown'd, " Then he laugh'd right scornfully — — " He who says the mass rite, for the soul of that knight, " May as well say mass for me. " At the lone midnight hour, when bad Spirits have power, "In thy chamber will I be." — " With that he was gone, and my Lady left alone,

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