The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Bart: Complete in One Volume. With All His Introductions and Notes, Also, Various Readings, and the Editor's Notes ...Phillips, Sampson & Company, 1854 - 840 стор. |
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Сторінка 22
... wave was crested with tawny foam , Like the mane of a chestnut steed . In vain ! no torrent , deep or broad , Might bar the bold moss - trooper's road . XXIX . At the first plunge the horse sunk low , And the water broke o'er the ...
... wave was crested with tawny foam , Like the mane of a chestnut steed . In vain ! no torrent , deep or broad , Might bar the bold moss - trooper's road . XXIX . At the first plunge the horse sunk low , And the water broke o'er the ...
Сторінка 25
... wave , The bells would ring in Notre Dame ! Some of his skill he taught to me ; And , Warrior , I could say to thee The words that cleft Eildon hills in three , " And bridled the Tweed with a curb of stone : But to speak them were a ...
... wave , The bells would ring in Notre Dame ! Some of his skill he taught to me ; And , Warrior , I could say to thee The words that cleft Eildon hills in three , " And bridled the Tweed with a curb of stone : But to speak them were a ...
Сторінка 34
... wave , From dreary Gamescleugh's dusky height , His ready lances Thirlestane brave Array'd beneath a banner bright . The tressured fleur - de - luce he claims , To wreath his shield , since royal James , Encamp'd by Fala's mossy wave ...
... wave , From dreary Gamescleugh's dusky height , His ready lances Thirlestane brave Array'd beneath a banner bright . The tressured fleur - de - luce he claims , To wreath his shield , since royal James , Encamp'd by Fala's mossy wave ...
Сторінка 39
... wave , Memorial o'er his rival's grave . XXXV . Why should I tell the rigid doom , That dragg'd my master to his tomb ; How Ousenam's maidens tore their hair , Wept till their eyes were dead and dim , And wrung their hands for love of ...
... wave , Memorial o'er his rival's grave . XXXV . Why should I tell the rigid doom , That dragg'd my master to his tomb ; How Ousenam's maidens tore their hair , Wept till their eyes were dead and dim , And wrung their hands for love of ...
Сторінка 40
... wave To murmur dirges round his grave . II . Not that , in sooth , o'er mortal urn Those things inanimate car mourn ; But that the stream , the wood , the gale , Is vocal with the plaintive wail Of those , who , else forgotten long ...
... wave To murmur dirges round his grave . II . Not that , in sooth , o'er mortal urn Those things inanimate car mourn ; But that the stream , the wood , the gale , Is vocal with the plaintive wail Of those , who , else forgotten long ...
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ancient Appendix arms ballad band bard Barnard Castle battle battle of Methven beneath blood bold Border Branksome brave breast brow Bruce called CANTO castle chief clan courser dark death Deloraine Douglas dread Earl Earl of Angus English Ettrick Forest fair falchion fear fell fight fire gallant gave grace hall hand harp hath head hear heard heart heaven Highland hill horse Isles James John King knight Lady lake land light Loch Katrine Lord Lorn loud maid Marmion minstrel Minstrelsy morning Mortham moss-troopers mountain ne'er noble Norham Note o'er pass'd poem poetry pride Risingham rock Roderick Rokeby romance round rude Saint scene Scotland Scott Scottish Scottish Border seem'd show'd Sir Walter Scott slain song sound spear stanza steed stood sword tale tell thee thine thou tide tower turn'd Twas warriors wave ween wild
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Сторінка 207 - Have then thy wish!' — He whistled shrill, And he was answered from the hill ; Wild as the scream of the curlew, From crag to crag the signal flew. Instant, through copse and heath, arose Bonnets and spears and bended bows : On right, on left, above, below, Sprung up at once the lurking foe...
Сторінка 38 - CALL it not vain ¡—they do not err, Who say, that when the Poet dies, Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, And celebrates his obsequies : Who say, tall cliff, and cavern lone, For the departed Bard make moan ; That mountains weep in crystal rill ; That flowers in tears of balm distil ; Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, And oaks, in deeper groan, reply; And rivers teach their rushing wave To murmur dirges round his grave.
Сторінка 84 - O'er PITT'S the mournful requiem sound, And Fox's shall the notes rebound. The solemn echo seems to cry, — " Here let their discord with them die : Speak not for those a separate doom, Whom Fate made Brothers in the tomb ; But search the land of living men, Where wilt thou find their like agen...
Сторінка 183 - Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking ; Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more : Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
Сторінка 176 - E'en the slight harebell raised its head, Elastic from her airy tread : What though upon her speech there hung The accents of the mountain tongue? — Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear, The listener held his breath to hear ! A Chieftain's daughter seem'd the maid ; Her satin snood, her silken plaid, Her golden brooch, such birth betray'd.
Сторінка 48 - O'er Roslin all that dreary night A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam; 'Twas broader than the watch-fire's light, And redder than the bright moon-beam. It glared on Roslin's castled rock, It ruddied all the copse-wood glen, 'Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oak, And seen from cavern'd Hawthornden.
Сторінка 26 - In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed; In war, he mounts the warrior's steed; In halls, in gay attire is seen; In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above ; For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
Сторінка 172 - The antler'd monarch of the waste Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. But, ere his fleet career he took, The dew-drops from his flanks he shook ; Like crested leader proud and high...
Сторінка 120 - So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; And the bride-maidens whispered, " Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.
Сторінка 98 - Of witches' spells, of warriors' arms ; Of patriot battles, won of old By Wallace wight and Bruce the bold ; Of later fields of feud and fight, When, pouring from their Highland height, The Scottish clans, in headlong sway, Had swept the scarlet ranks away. While...