Sir Walter Scott

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Sands, 1901 - 304 стор.
 

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Сторінка 238 - O Caledonia ! stern and wild, meet nurse for a poetic child, • land of brown heath and shaggy wood, land of the mountain and the flood, land of my sires!
Сторінка 206 - Sir Walter breathed his last, in the presence of all his children. It was a beautiful day — so warm, that every window was wide open — and so perfectly still, that the sound of all others most delicious to his ear, the gentle ripple of the Tweed over its pebbles, was distinctly audible as we knelt around the bed, and his eldest son kissed and closed his eyes.
Сторінка 21 - To read and to remember was in this instance the same thing, and henceforth I overwhelmed my schoolfellows, and all who would hearken to me, with tragical recitations from the ballads of Bishop Percy. The first time, too, I could scrape a few shillings together, which were not common occurrences with me, I bought unto myself a copy of these beloved volumes, nor do I believe I ever read a book half so frequently, or with half the enthusiasm.
Сторінка 249 - — -he whistled shrill And he was answered from the hill ; Wild as the scream of the curlew, From crag to crag the signal flew.
Сторінка 11 - 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 the Highland height, The Scottish clans, in headlong sway, Had swept the scarlet ranks away.
Сторінка 50 - Until they won her; for indeed I knew Of no more subtle master under heaven Than is the maiden passion for a maid, Not only to keep down the base in man, But teach high thought, and amiable words And courtliness, and the desire ol fame, And love of truth, and all that makes a man.
Сторінка 206 - I may have but a minute to speak to you. My dear, be a good man — be virtuous — be religious — be a good man. Nothing else will give you any comfort when you come to lie here.
Сторінка 109 - He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch, To gain or lose it all.
Сторінка 277 - I have repeatedly laid down my future work to scale, divided it into volumes and chapters, and endeavoured to construct a story which I meant should evolve itself gradually and strikingly, maintain suspense, and stimulate curiosity; and which, finally, should terminate in a striking catastrophe.
Сторінка 11 - Glared through the window's rusty bars, And ever, by the winter hearth, Old tales I heard of woe or mirth, Of lovers...

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