The Complete Poetical Works of Sir Walter ScottHoughton, Mifflin, 1900 - 582 ページ |
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... wind : My love is deadly cold . ' 120 ' Let the wind howl through hawthorn bush ! This night we must away ; The steed is wight , the spur is bright ; I cannot stay till day . Busk , busk , and boune ! Thou mount'st behind Upon my black ...
... wind : My love is deadly cold . ' 120 ' Let the wind howl through hawthorn bush ! This night we must away ; The steed is wight , the spur is bright ; I cannot stay till day . Busk , busk , and boune ! Thou mount'st behind Upon my black ...
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... wind through hazel bush The wild career attends . 200 210 Tramp ! tramp ! along the land they rode , Splash ! splash ... winds his bugle - horn 4 TWO BALLADS FROM THE GERMAN OF BÜRGER.
... wind through hazel bush The wild career attends . 200 210 Tramp ! tramp ! along the land they rode , Splash ! splash ... winds his bugle - horn 4 TWO BALLADS FROM THE GERMAN OF BÜRGER.
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... wind . ' Twas Moy ; whom in Columba's isle The seer's prophetic spirit found , As , with a minstrel's fire the while , He waked his harp's harmonious sound . Full many a spell to him was known 20 Which wandering spirits shrink to hear ...
... wind . ' Twas Moy ; whom in Columba's isle The seer's prophetic spirit found , As , with a minstrel's fire the while , He waked his harp's harmonious sound . Full many a spell to him was known 20 Which wandering spirits shrink to hear ...
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... wind his tartans flow ? ' . 170 And who art thou ? and who are they ? ' All ghastly gazing , Moy replied : And why , beneath the moon's pale ray , Dare ye thus roam Glenfinlas ' side ? " ' Where wild Loch Katrine pours her tide , Blue ...
... wind his tartans flow ? ' . 170 And who art thou ? and who are they ? ' All ghastly gazing , Moy replied : And why , beneath the moon's pale ray , Dare ye thus roam Glenfinlas ' side ? " ' Where wild Loch Katrine pours her tide , Blue ...
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... wind ? ' Not thine a race of mortal blood , Nor old Glengyle's pretended line ; Thy dame , the Lady of the Flood Thy sire , the Monarch of the Mine . ' 200 210 He muttered thrice Saint Oran's rhyme , And thrice Saint Fillan's powerful ...
... wind ? ' Not thine a race of mortal blood , Nor old Glengyle's pretended line ; Thy dame , the Lady of the Flood Thy sire , the Monarch of the Mine . ' 200 210 He muttered thrice Saint Oran's rhyme , And thrice Saint Fillan's powerful ...
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Abbotsford Argentine arms bade band banner bard battle beneath Bertram blood bold bower brand brave breast bright Brignall broadsword brow castle courser dark death deep Deloraine Douglas dread Ettrick Forest fair falchion fame fate fear fell fierce fight fire gallant glance glen grace gray hall hand harp hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill honor King knight lady lake land light Loch Katrine lone look Lord loud maid maiden Marmion minstrel minstrelsy monarch morning Mortham moss-trooper mountain ne'er noble o'er pale pennons pibroch poem pride Redmond Risingham rock Roderick Rokeby Rokeby's round Saint Saxon scene Scotland Scott Scottish sire smile song sought soul sound spear spoke steed stern stood stream strife sword tale tell thee thine thou tide toil tower twixt voice wake warrior wave ween wild Wilfrid wind youth
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130 ページ - So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; And the bride-maidens whispered '"Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.
51 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.
451 ページ - With priest's and warrior's voice between. No portents now our foes amaze, Forsaken Israel wanders lone: Our fathers would not know Thy ways, And Thou hast left them to their own. But present still, though now unseen! When brightly shines the prosperous day, Be thoughts of Thee a cloudy screen To temper the deceitful ray. And...
91 ページ - DAY set on Norham's castled steep, And Tweed's fair river, broad and deep, And Cheviot's mountains lone: The battled towers, the Donjon Keep, The loop-hole grates where captives weep? The flanking walls that round it sweep, In yellow lustre shone.
51 ページ - If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright, Go visit it by the pale moonlight ; For the gay beams of lightsome day Gild, but to flout, the ruins gray. 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...
160 ページ - And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, Of finer form, or lovelier face ! What though the sun, with ardent frown, Had slightly tinged her cheek with brown, The sportive toil, which, short and light, Had dyed her glowing hue so bright, Served too in hastier swell to show Short glimpses of a breast of snow ; What though no rule of courtly grace To measured mood had...
138 ページ - All hailed, with uncontrolled delight And general voice, the happy night That to the cottage, as the crown, Brought tidings of salvation down. The fire, with well-dried logs supplied, Went roaring up the chimney wide ; The huge hall-table's oaken face...
156 ページ - The antlered monarch of the waste Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. But ere his fleet career he took, The dew-drops from his flanks he shook; Like crested leader proud and high Tossed his beamed frontlet to the sky; A moment gazed adown the dale, A moment snuffed the tainted gale, A moment listened to the cry, That...
147 ページ - King James did rushing come. — Scarce could they hear, or see their foes, Until at weapon-point they close. — They close, in clouds of smoke and dust, With sword-sway, and with lance's thrust ; And such a yell was there, Of sudden and portentous birth, As if men fought upon the earth And fiends in upper air ; Oh 1 life and death were in the shout, Recoil and rally, charge and rout, And triumph and despair.
162 ページ - 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...