The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Band 2

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Little, Brown & Company; Shepard, Clark and Brown, 1857
 

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Seite 84 - 2 [" And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth show, And every herb that sips the dew; Till old experience do attain To something like prophetic strain.
Seite 317 - On the Earl's cheek the flush of rage O'ercame the ashen hue of age : Fierce he broke forth,—"And darest thou then To beard the lion in his den, The Douglas in his hall ? And hopest thou hence unscathed to go ?— No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no ! Up drawbridge, grooms—what, Warder, ho ! Let the portcullis fall"—
Seite 146 - and high, Sounds the far billow, Where early violets die, Under the willow. Eleu loro, &c. Soft shall be his pillow. There, through the summer day, Cool streams are laving; There, while the tempests sway, Scarce are boughs waving ; There, thy rest shalt thou take, Parted forever, Never again to wake, Never, 0 never
Seite 284 - HEAP on more wood!—the wind is chill; But let it whistle as it will, We'll keep our Christmas merry still. Each age has deem'd the new-born year The fittest time for festal cheer: Even, heathen yet, the savage Dane At lol more deep the mead did drain ; 2
Seite 133 - The mightiest work of human power ; And marvell'd as the aged hind With some strange tale bewitch'd my mind, Of forayers, who, with headlong force, Down from that strength had spurr'd their horse, Their southern rapine to renew, Far in the distant Cheviots blue, And, home returning, fill'd the hall With revel, wassel-rout, and brawl.
Seite 250 - So boldly he enter'd the Netherby Hall, Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers,' and all: Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, (For the poor craven bridegroom said
Seite 332 - [MS.—" And first the broken ridge of spears."] And stainless Tunstall's banner white, And Edmund Howard's lion bright, Still bear them bravely in the fight; Although against them come, Of gallant Gordons many a one, And many a stubborn Badenoch-man, 1 And many a rugged Border clan, With Huntly, and with Home.
Seite 331 - Marmion ! Marmion !" that the cry, Up Flodden mountain shrilling high, Startled the Scottish foes. XXV. Blount and Fitz-Eustace rested still With Lady Clare upon the hill; On which, (for far the day was spent,) The western sunbeams now were bent The cry they heard, its meaning knew, Could plain their distant comrades view
Seite 42 - the fourth " donjon steep; " the seventh " ruddy lustre."] 2 [MS.—"Eastern sky."] Above the gloomy portal arch, Timing his footsteps to a march, The Warder kept his guard ; Low humming, as he paced along, Some ancient Border gathering song. m. A distant trampling sound he hears; He looks abroad, and soon appears, O'er Horncliff-hill a plump
Seite 288 - England was merry England, when Old Christmas brought his sports again. 'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale ; 'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale ; A Christmas gambol oft could cheer The poor man's heart through half the year. Still linger, in our northern clime, Some remnants of the good old time ; And still, within our valleys here, We hold the kindred title dear,

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