The Lay of the Last MinstrelA. and C. Black, 1874 - 228 ページ |
この書籍内から
検索結果1-5 / 18
27 ページ
... lost the ease , Which marks security to please : And scenes , long past , of joy and pain , Came wildering o'er his aged brain— He tried to tune his harp in vain ! The pitying Duchess praised its chime , And gave him heart , and gave ...
... lost the ease , Which marks security to please : And scenes , long past , of joy and pain , Came wildering o'er his aged brain— He tried to tune his harp in vain ! The pitying Duchess praised its chime , And gave him heart , and gave ...
28 ページ
... lost ; Each blank , in faithless memory void , The poet's glowing thought supplied ; And , while his harp responsive rung , ' Twas thus the LATEST MINSTREL Sung , THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL . CANTO FIRST . LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL .
... lost ; Each blank , in faithless memory void , The poet's glowing thought supplied ; And , while his harp responsive rung , ' Twas thus the LATEST MINSTREL Sung , THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL . CANTO FIRST . LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL .
58 ページ
... lost the enchanting strain ; Its lightness would my age reprove : My hairs are grey , my limbs are old , My heart is dead , my veins are cold : I may not , must not , sing of love . XXXI . Beneath an oak , moss'd o'er by eld , The ...
... lost the enchanting strain ; Its lightness would my age reprove : My hairs are grey , my limbs are old , My heart is dead , my veins are cold : I may not , must not , sing of love . XXXI . Beneath an oak , moss'd o'er by eld , The ...
59 ページ
... Lost ! lost ! lost ! " And , like tennis - ball by racket toss'd , A leap , of thirty feet and three , Made from the gorse this elfin shape , Distorted like some dwarfish ape , And lighted at Lord Cranstoun's knee . Lord Cranstoun was ...
... Lost ! lost ! lost ! " And , like tennis - ball by racket toss'd , A leap , of thirty feet and three , Made from the gorse this elfin shape , Distorted like some dwarfish ape , And lighted at Lord Cranstoun's knee . Lord Cranstoun was ...
69 ページ
... Lost ! lost ! lost " _ XIV . Full sore amazed at the wondrous change , And frightened as a child might be , At the wild yell and visage strange , And the dark words of gramarye , The child , amidst the forest bower , Stood rooted like a ...
... Lost ! lost ! lost " _ XIV . Full sore amazed at the wondrous change , And frightened as a child might be , At the wild yell and visage strange , And the dark words of gramarye , The child , amidst the forest bower , Stood rooted like a ...
他の版 - すべて表示
多く使われている語句
ancient Appendix arms ballad band Baron Beattisons beneath betwixt blaze blood blood-hound Border Branksome Branksome Hall Branksome's Buccleuch called Canto castle Cessford chapel chief Clair clan courser Cranstoun Cumberland Dame dead Douglas dread Duke Earl Earl of Angus Eildon hills English Eskdale Ettrick Ettrick Forest fair on Carlisle friends Froissart hall hand Harden harp Hawick heard hill horse Howard James Jedburgh King Kirkwall knight Ladye Laird of Buccleuch lances lands LAST MINSTREL Liddesdale Melrose Melrose Abbey Michael Scott Mickledale Minstrelsy moss-trooper Musgrave ne'er noble Note o'er pass'd poem ride rode Roslin round rung Scotland Scots Scottish Scottish Border Seem'd shulde Sir Walter Scott Sir William slain song spear steed stone stood sword Teviot's Teviotdale thee theyme theyre Thomas Musgrave thou Tinlinn tower tyme Virgilius Walter Scott warriors wild William of Deloraine word wound
人気のある引用
25 ページ - Seem'd to have known a better day; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by an orphan boy. The last of all the Bards was he, Who sung of Border chivalry; For, welladay ! their date was fled, His tuneful brethren all were dead; And he, neglected and oppress'd, Wish'd to be with them, and at rest.
127 ページ - BREATHES there the man, with soul so dead. Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd. As home his footsteps he hath turn'd, From wandering on a foreign strand ! If such there breathe, go, mark him well...
45 ページ - IF thou would'st view fair Melrose aright, Go visit it by the pale moon-light; For the gay beams of lightsome day Gild, but to flout, the ruins gray.
45 ページ - 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 ; When distant Tweed is heard to rave, And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave, Then go— but go alone the while — Then view St. David's ruined pile ; And, home' returning, soothly swear, Was never scene so sad and fair ! II.
142 ページ - Clair. There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold Lie buried within that proud chapelle; Each one the holy vault doth hold — But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle. And each St Clair was buried there, With candle, with book, and with knell ; But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung, The dirge of lovely Rosabelle...
50 ページ - The moon on the east oriel shone, Through slender shafts of shapely stone, By foliaged tracery combined ; Thou would'st have thought some fairy's hand 'Twixt poplars straight the ozier wand, In many a freakish knot had twined ; Then framed a spell, when the work was done, And changed the willow wreaths to stone.
63 ページ - In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed; In war, he mounts the warrior's steed; In halls, in gay attire is seen; In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above; For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
28 ページ - The pitying Duchess praised its chime, And gave him heart, and gave him time, Till every string's according glee Was blended into harmony. And then, he said, he would full fain He could recall an ancient strain He never thought to sing again. It was not framed for village churls, But for high dames and mighty earls...
128 ページ - 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...
164 ページ - A thousand fantasies Begin to throng into my memory, Of calling shapes and beckoning shadows dire, And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses.