The Novels and Poems of Sir Walter Scott: Poems and ballads

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294 ページ - Then, fainting, down on earth he sunk, Supported by the trembling Monk. XXXII With fruitless labour, Clara bound, And strove to stanch the gushing wound : The Monk, with unavailing cares, Exhausted all the Church's prayers. Ever, he said, that, close and near, A lady's voice was in his ear, And that the priest he could not hear, For that she ever sung, "In the lost battle, borne down by the flying, Where mingles war's rattle with groans of the dying...
291 ページ - 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...
207 ページ - I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied : Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide ; And now am I come, with this lost love of mine To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar...
207 ページ - Eske river where ford there was none : But ere he alighted at Netherby gate The bride had consented, the gallant came late : For a laggard in love and a dastard in war Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
27 ページ - 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...
159 ページ - Oh ! on that day, that wrathful day, When man to judgment wakes from clay, Be THOU the trembling sinner's stay, Though heaven and earth shall pass away ! HUSHED is the harp — the Minstrel gone.
269 ページ - But Douglas round him drew his cloak, Folded his arms, and thus he spoke: — "My manors, halls, and bowers shall still Be open at my sovereign's will To each one whom he lists, howe'er Unmeet to be the owner's peer. My castles are my king's alone, From turret to foundation-stone — The hand of Douglas is his own, And never shall in friendly grasp The hand of such as Marmion clasp.
103 ページ - So, cast and mingled with his very frame. The mind's disease, its ruling passion came; Each vital humour which should feed the whole, Soon flows to this, in body and in soul: Whatever warms the heart, or fills the head, As the mind opens, and its functions spread, Imagination plies her dangerous art, And pours it all upon the peccant part.
176 ページ - 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...
272 ページ - Marmion reach'd his band, He halts, and turns with clenched hand, And shout of loud defiance pours, And shook his gauntlet at the towers. " Horse ! horse ! " the Douglas cried, " and chase ! " But soon he rein'd his fury's pace : " A royal messenger he came, Though most unworthy of the name.

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