The poetical works of Walter Scott, Band 6 |
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Seite 12
... live the mountain Chiefs who hold , That plundering Lowland field and fold Is aught but retribution true ? Seek other cause ' gainst Roderick Dhu . " . VIII . Answer'd Fitz - James , - " And , if I sought , Think'st thou no other could ...
... live the mountain Chiefs who hold , That plundering Lowland field and fold Is aught but retribution true ? Seek other cause ' gainst Roderick Dhu . " . VIII . Answer'd Fitz - James , - " And , if I sought , Think'st thou no other could ...
Seite 27
... live , The praise that Faith and Valour give . " - With that he blew a bugle - note , Undid the collar from his throat , Unbonnetted , and by the wave Sate down his brow and hands to lave . Then faint afar are heard the feet Of rushing ...
... live , The praise that Faith and Valour give . " - With that he blew a bugle - note , Undid the collar from his throat , Unbonnetted , and by the wave Sate down his brow and hands to lave . Then faint afar are heard the feet Of rushing ...
Seite 35
... live the Commons ' King , King James ! " Behind the King throng'd peer and knight , And noble dame and damsel bright , Whose fiery steeds ill - brook'd the stay Of the steep street and crowded way . -But in the train you might discern ...
... live the Commons ' King , King James ! " Behind the King throng'd peer and knight , And noble dame and damsel bright , Whose fiery steeds ill - brook'd the stay Of the steep street and crowded way . -But in the train you might discern ...
Seite 42
... lives , ye menial pack ! Beware the Douglas . - Yes ! behold , King James ! The Douglas , doom'd of old , And vainly sought for near and far , A victim to atone the war , A willing victim , now attends , Nor craves thy 42 Canto V. THE ...
... lives , ye menial pack ! Beware the Douglas . - Yes ! behold , King James ! The Douglas , doom'd of old , And vainly sought for near and far , A victim to atone the war , A willing victim , now attends , Nor craves thy 42 Canto V. THE ...
Seite 58
... live by battle which they loved . There the Italian's clouded face , The swarthy Spaniard's there you trace ; The mountain - loving Switzer there More freely breathed in mountain - air ; The Fleming there despised the soil , That paid ...
... live by battle which they loved . There the Italian's clouded face , The swarthy Spaniard's there you trace ; The mountain - loving Switzer there More freely breathed in mountain - air ; The Fleming there despised the soil , That paid ...
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
ancient archery arms bairnies ballad bard battle bear blood Brantome brave Brent broad-sword brow called castle Chieftain clan Clan-Alpine's Countess of Dunbar courser curious Danish deer Douglas Doune Duergar Dunbar Earl Eildon Tree Elfin Ercildoun fair fairy fear Fitz-James frae Gael give glance grace grey hand harp hart heard heart heaven Highland hill huswife James John Gunn King king's knight lady ladye lake land Learmont's Lochiel Lord loved maid maun Merlin merry Minstrel monarch mountain noble Note numbers o'er Perceforest prophecies prophet queen Roderick Dhu romance Rowland Yorke sall Saxon sayd Scot Scotland Scottish shal shew Sir Tristrem sires spear steed stern Stirling Stirling Castle stood strife sword Syne tale thee Thomas lay THOMAS THE RHYMER thou tide tower True Thomas Vidame Waldhave warrior wave Whan wild word wyll yonder
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 21 - And hear, — to fire thy flagging zeal, — The Saxon cause rests on thy steel; For thus spoke Fate, by prophet bred Between the living and the dead: 'Who spills the foremost foeman's life, His party- conquers in the strife.
Seite 24 - Fitz-James's blade was sword and shield. He practised every pass and ward, To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard; While less expert, though stronger far, The Gael maintained unequal war. Three times in closing strife they stood, And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood; No stinted draught, no scanty tide, The gushing flood the tartans dyed. Fierce Roderick felt the fatal drain, And...
Seite 91 - I hate to learn the ebb of time, From yon dull steeple's drowsy chime, Or mark it as the sun-beams crawl, Inch after inch, along the wall. The lark was wont my matins...
Seite 22 - Soars thy presumption, then, so high, Because a wretched kern ye slew, Homage to name to Roderick Dhu ? He yields not, he, to man nor Fate ! Thou add'st but fuel to my hate : — My clansman's blood demands revenge. Not yet prepared ? — By heaven, I change My thought, and hold thy valor light As that of some vain carpet knight, Who ill deserved my courteous care, And whose best boast is but to wear A braid of his fair lady's hair.
Seite 196 - 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. True Thomas, he pull'd aff his cap, And louted low down to his knee, " All hail, thou mighty queen of heaven ! For thy peer on earth I never did see.
Seite 21 - Then, by my word," the Saxon said, " The riddle is already read. Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff, — There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. Thus Fate has solved her prophecy, Then yield to Fate, and not to me.
Seite 16 - Each warrior vanished where he stood, In broom or bracken, heath or wood ; Sunk brand, and spear, and bended bow, In osiers pale and copses low ; It seemed as if their mother Earth Had swallowed up her warlike birth.
Seite 11 - These fertile plains, that softened vale, Were once the birthright of the Gael ; The stranger came with iron hand, And from our fathers reft the land. Where dwell we now ? See, rudely swell Crag over crag, and fell o'er fell. Ask we this savage hill we tread, For...
Seite 14 - The rushes and the willow-wand Are bristling into axe and brand, And every tuft of broom gives life To plaided warrior armed for strife. That whistle garrisoned the glen At once with full five hundred men, As if the yawning hill to heaven A subterranean host had given.
Seite 77 - The sun's retiring beams? — I see the dagger-crest of Mar, I see the Moray's silver star, Wave o'er the cloud of Saxon war, That up the lake comes winding far ! To hero bound for battle-strife, Or bard of martial lay, Twere worth ten years of peaceful life, One glance at their array ! XVI.