The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Bart: Complete in One Volume. With Introductions and Notes..Robert Cadell, St. Andrew Square., 1841 - 823 Seiten |
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Seite 15
... close . The words may not again be said , That he spoke to me , on death - bed laid ; They would rend this Abbaye's massy nave , And pile it in heaps above his grave . XV . " I swore to bury his Mighty Book , That never mortal might ...
... close . The words may not again be said , That he spoke to me , on death - bed laid ; They would rend this Abbaye's massy nave , And pile it in heaps above his grave . XV . " I swore to bury his Mighty Book , That never mortal might ...
Seite 21
... close , Set off his sun - burn'd face : Old England's sign , St George's cross , His barret - cap did grace ; His bugle - horn hung by his side , All in a wolf - skin baldric tied ; And his short falchion , sharp and clear , Had pierced ...
... close , Set off his sun - burn'd face : Old England's sign , St George's cross , His barret - cap did grace ; His bugle - horn hung by his side , All in a wolf - skin baldric tied ; And his short falchion , sharp and clear , Had pierced ...
Seite 23
... close of this Canto - nor the touching picture of the Bard when , with assumed business , he tries to conceal real sorrow . How well the poet understands the art of contrast - and how judi- ciously it is exerted in the exordium of the ...
... close of this Canto - nor the touching picture of the Bard when , with assumed business , he tries to conceal real sorrow . How well the poet understands the art of contrast - and how judi- ciously it is exerted in the exordium of the ...
Seite 33
... close . " - ED . a " The whole scene of the duel , or judicial combat , is con- He sayeth , that William of Deloraine Is traitor false by Border laws ; This with his sword he will maintain , So help him God , and his good cause ! " XX ...
... close . " - ED . a " The whole scene of the duel , or judicial combat , is con- He sayeth , that William of Deloraine Is traitor false by Border laws ; This with his sword he will maintain , So help him God , and his good cause ! " XX ...
Seite 42
... close The hymn of intercession rose ; And far the echoing aisles prolong The awful burthen of the song , - DIES IRE , DIES ILLA , SOLVET SÆCLUM IN FAVILLA ; While the pealing organ rung ; Were it meet with sacred strain To close my lay ...
... close The hymn of intercession rose ; And far the echoing aisles prolong The awful burthen of the song , - DIES IRE , DIES ILLA , SOLVET SÆCLUM IN FAVILLA ; While the pealing organ rung ; Were it meet with sacred strain To close my lay ...
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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 hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Highland hill honour horse Isles James John King knight Lady lake land light Loch Katrine 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 Sir Walter Scott slain song sought sound spear stanza steed stood sword tale tell thee thine thou tide tower Twas warriors wave ween wild
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Seite 198 - 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 121 - One touch to her hand and one word in her ear, When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! ' She is won ! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur ; They'll have fleet steeds that follow,
Seite 14 - When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die...
Seite 184 - 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 177 - The stag at eve had drunk his fill, Where danced the moon on Monan's rill, And deep his midnight lair had made In lone Glenartney's hazel shade...
Seite 36 - 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! what mortal hand can e'er untie the filial band, that knits me to thy rugged strand!
Seite 184 - No rude sound shall reach* thine ear, Armour's clang, or war-steed champing, Trump nor pibroch summon here Mustering clan or squadron tramping. Yet the lark's shrill fife may come At the daybreak from the fallow, And the bittern sound his drum, Booming from the sedgy shallow. Ruder sounds shall none be near, Guards nor warders challenge here, Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing, Shouting clans or squadrons stamping.
Seite 138 - And sudden, as he spoke, From the sharp ridges of the hill, All downward to the banks of Till, Was wreathed in sable smoke. Volumed and vast, and rolling far, The cloud enveloped Scotland's war As down the hill they broke ; Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone, Announced their march ; their tread alone, At times one warning trumpet blown, At times a stifled hum, Told England, from his...
Seite 140 - O woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made ; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou...
Seite 129 - And carols roar*d with blithesome din ; If unmelodious was the song, It was a hearty note, and strong. Who lists may in their mumming see Traces of ancient mystery ; White shirts supplied the masquerade, And smutted cheeks the visors made ; But...