The Lady of the Lake: A PoemJohn Ballantyne and Company, 1810 - 433 Seiten |
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Seite 44
... Douglas eye ? Can I not view a highland brand , But it must match the Douglas hand ? Can I not frame a fevered dream , But still the Douglas is the theine ? — I'll dream no more - by manly mind Not even in sleep is will resigned . My ...
... Douglas eye ? Can I not view a highland brand , But it must match the Douglas hand ? Can I not frame a fevered dream , But still the Douglas is the theine ? — I'll dream no more - by manly mind Not even in sleep is will resigned . My ...
Seite 58
... her accent , yet she sighed , ) " Yet is this mossy rock to me Worth splendid chair and canopy ; * The well - known cognizance of the Douglas family . Nor would my footstep spring more gay In courtly dance 58 CANTO H. THE LADY OF THE LAKE .
... her accent , yet she sighed , ) " Yet is this mossy rock to me Worth splendid chair and canopy ; * The well - known cognizance of the Douglas family . Nor would my footstep spring more gay In courtly dance 58 CANTO H. THE LADY OF THE LAKE .
Seite 60
... Douglas , like a stricken deer , Disowned by every noble peer , Even the rude refuge we have here ? Alas , this wild marauding chief Alone might hazard our relief , And now thy maiden charms expand , Looks for his guerdon in thy hand ...
... Douglas , like a stricken deer , Disowned by every noble peer , Even the rude refuge we have here ? Alas , this wild marauding chief Alone might hazard our relief , And now thy maiden charms expand , Looks for his guerdon in thy hand ...
Seite 61
... Douglas dwell A votaress in Maronnan's cell ; Rather through realms beyond the sea , Seeking the world's cold charity , Where ne'er was spoke a Scottish word , And ne'er the name of Douglas heard , An outcast pilgrim will she rove ...
... Douglas dwell A votaress in Maronnan's cell ; Rather through realms beyond the sea , Seeking the world's cold charity , Where ne'er was spoke a Scottish word , And ne'er the name of Douglas heard , An outcast pilgrim will she rove ...
Seite 63
... with anguish ! or , if e'er A Douglas knew the word , with fear . To change such odious theme were best , — What think'st thou of our stranger guest ? " - XV . " What think I of him ? -woe CANTO II . 63 THE ISLAND . 89.
... with anguish ! or , if e'er A Douglas knew the word , with fear . To change such odious theme were best , — What think'st thou of our stranger guest ? " - XV . " What think I of him ? -woe CANTO II . 63 THE ISLAND . 89.
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
agen Alpine's arms ballad band bard battle blade blood bold brand Brantome brave breast broad-sword brow called CANTO castle chase chief Chieftain clan Clan-Alpine's Cross Dæmon dark death deep deer Douglas dread drew Duergar Earl of Angus Ellen fair fairy fear Fiery Cross Fitz-James Gael gallant glance glen grace grey hand harp head hear heard heart heath heaven Highland hill honoured hounds isle James John Gunn King king's LADY lake land Loch-Katrine Lord loud lowland Macgregor maid maiden merry Minstrel morning mountain ne'er night noble Note o'er pass Perthshire pibroch plaid pride rock Roderick Dhu round Rowland Yorke Saint Modan Saxon Scotland Scottish shallop shewed side sire snood song sound spear speed stag steed Stirling Stirling Castle stood stranger sword tear thee thine thou tide Twas Urisk warrior wave western isles wild yonder
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 118 - He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font, reappearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest.
Seite 38 - 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.
Seite 289 - Yet, once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp! Yet, once again, forgive my feeble sway, And little reck I of the censure sharp May idly cavil at an idle lay.
Seite 211 - It nerves my heart, it steels my sword ; For I have sworn this braid to stain In the best blood that warms thy vein. Now, truce, farewell ! and ruth, begone ! — Yet think not that by thee alone, Proud Chief ! can courtesy be shown ; Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn, Start at my whistle clansmen stern, Of this small horn one feeble blast Would fearful odds against thee cast. But fear not — doubt not — which thou wilt — We try this quarrel hilt to hilt.
Seite 208 - No, Stranger, none; 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 128 - The heath this night must be my bed, The bracken* curtain for my head, My lullaby the warder's tread, Far, far, from love and thee, Mary ; To-morrow eve, more stilly laid, My couch may be my bloody plaid, My vesper song, thy wail, sweet maid...
Seite 210 - Who ill deserved my courteous' care, And whose best boast is but to wear A braid of his fair lady's hair.' 'I thank thee, Roderick, for the word! It nerves my heart, it steels my sword ; For I have sworn this braid to stain In the best blood that warms thy vein.
Seite 211 - Then each at once his falchion drew, Each on the ground his scabbard threw, Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain, As what they ne'er might see again ; Then foot, and point, and eye opposed, In dubious strife they darkly closed.
Seite 99 - The torrent showed its glistening pride ; Invisible in flecked sky, The lark sent down her revelry; The blackbird and the speckled thrush Good-morrow gave from brake and bush ; In answer cooed the cushat dove, Her notes of peace, and rest, and love.
Seite 16 - With boughs that quaked at every breath, Grey birch and aspen wept beneath ; Aloft, the ash and warrior oak Cast anchor in the rifted rock ; And, higher yet, the pine-tree hung His shatter'd trunk, and frequent flung, Where seem'd the cliffs to meet on high, His boughs athwart the narrow'd sky.