Scott and Scotland

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Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green, and Longman, 1835 - 256 Seiten
 

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Seite 119 - These men are the servants of the most high God, which shew unto us the way of salvation. And this did she many days. But Paul, being grieved, turned and said to the spirit, I command thee in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.
Seite 89 - Can e'er untie the filial band, That knits me to thy rugged strand ! Still, as I view each well-known scene, Think what is now, and what hath been, Seems as, to me, of all bereft, Sole friends thy woods and streams were left ; And thus I love them better still, Even in extremity of ill. By Yarrow's stream still let me stray, Though none should guide my feeble way ; Still feel the breeze down Ettrick break, Although it chill my withered cheek ; Still lay my head by Teviot stone, Though there, forgotten...
Seite 232 - When sated with the martial show That peopled all the plain below, The wandering eye could o'er it go, And mark the distant city glow With gloomy splendour red ; For on the smoke-wreaths, huge and slow, That round her sable turrets flow, The morning beams were shed, And tinged them with a lustre proud, Like that which streaks a thunder-cloud. Such dusky grandeur clothed the height, Where the huge Castle holds its state, And all the steep slope...
Seite 239 - ... darker and more extensive caverns which yawned around what may be termed the inhabited space. In those waste regions of oblivion dusky banners and tattered escutcheons indicated the graves of those who were once, doubtless, 'princes in Israel.' Inscriptions, which could only be read by the painful antiquary, in language as obsolete as the act of devotional charity which they implored, invited the passengers to pray for the souls of those whose bodies rested beneath.
Seite 181 - Of all the palaces so fair, Built for the royal dwelling In Scotland, far beyond compare Linlithgow is excelling; And in its park in jovial June, How sweet the merry linnet's tune, How blithe the blackbird's lay ! The wild buck bells from ferny brake, The coot dives merry on the lake, The saddest heart might pleasure take To see all nature gay.
Seite 35 - Ten of them were sheathed in steel, With belted sword and spur on heel : They quitted not their harness bright, Neither by day nor yet by night: They lay down to rest, With corslet laced, Pillowed on buckler cold and hard ; They carved at the meal With gloves of steel, And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred.
Seite 129 - Blazed battlement and pinnet high, Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair— So still they blaze, when fate is nigh The lordly line of high St. Clair.
Seite 142 - For on the smoke-wreaths, huge and slow That round her sable turrets flow, The morning beams were shed, And tinged them with a lustre proud, Like that which streaks a thunder-cloud. Such dusky grandeur clothed the height Where the huge Castle holds its state, And all the steep slope down Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky, Piled deep and massy, close and high, Mine own romantic town...
Seite 80 - ... the rue for wine ! A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A feather of the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green. — No more of me you knew, My love ! No more of me you knew. ' This morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain ; But she shall bloom in winter snow Ere we two meet again.' He turned his charger as he spake Upon the river shore, He gave his bridle-reins a shake, Said, ' Adieu for evermore, My love ! And adieu for evermore.
Seite 47 - The moon on the east oriel shone Through slender shafts of shapely stone, By foliaged tracery combined; Thou wouldst have thought some fairy's hand 'Twixt poplars straight the osier wand In many a freakish knot had twined; Then framed a spell, when the work was done, And changed the willow wreaths to stone.

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