The poetical works of sir Walter Scott. With memoir of the author |
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10 ページ
... . mimic foray * rode . Even bearded knights , in arms grown old , Share in his frolic gambols bore , Foray , a predatory inroad . Albeit their hearts , of rugged mould , Were stubborn 10 [ Canto I. THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL.
... . mimic foray * rode . Even bearded knights , in arms grown old , Share in his frolic gambols bore , Foray , a predatory inroad . Albeit their hearts , of rugged mould , Were stubborn 10 [ Canto I. THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL.
13 ページ
... Bore down Buccleuch's retiring clan , Till gallant Cessford's heart - blood dear Reeked on dark Elliot's Border spear . * Barded , or barbed , -applied to a horse accoutred with defensive armour . + Halidon Hill , on which the battle of ...
... Bore down Buccleuch's retiring clan , Till gallant Cessford's heart - blood dear Reeked on dark Elliot's Border spear . * Barded , or barbed , -applied to a horse accoutred with defensive armour . + Halidon Hill , on which the battle of ...
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... bore he ; His buckler scarce in breadth a span , No longer fence had he ; He never counted him a man , Would strike below the knee ; His slackened bow was in his hand , And the leash , that was his blood - hound's band . XVIII . He ...
... bore he ; His buckler scarce in breadth a span , No longer fence had he ; He never counted him a man , Would strike below the knee ; His slackened bow was in his hand , And the leash , that was his blood - hound's band . XVIII . He ...
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... bore his wife and children twain ; A half - clothed serf † was all their train : His wife , stout , ruddy , and dark - browed , Of silver broach and bracelet proud , Laughed to her friends among the crowd . He was of stature passing ...
... bore his wife and children twain ; A half - clothed serf † was all their train : His wife , stout , ruddy , and dark - browed , Of silver broach and bracelet proud , Laughed to her friends among the crowd . He was of stature passing ...
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... bore the Galliard through and through ; Where the Beattisons ' blood mixed with the rill , The Galliard's Haugh men call it still . The Scotts have scattered the Beattison clan , In Eskdale they left but one landed man . The valley of ...
... bore the Galliard through and through ; Where the Beattisons ' blood mixed with the rill , The Galliard's Haugh men call it still . The Scotts have scattered the Beattison clan , In Eskdale they left but one landed man . The valley of ...
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ancient Argentine arms bade band banner battle beneath Bertram blood blood-hound bold bower brand Branksome Hall brave breast bright brow Bruce castle cheer Chieftain clan courser crest Dæmon dark deep Deloraine Douglas dread drew Edinburgh Annual Ettricke Forest fair falchion fame fear fell fierce fight fire gallant glance glen grace grey Grey Brother hall hand harp hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill holy honoured isle King knight lady land light lonely look Lord Marmion Lorn loud maid minstrel monarch Mortham moss-trooper mountain ne'er noble Norham o'er pale pride Redmond Risingham Roderick Rokeby's Ronald round rude rung Saint Saint Hilda Saxon scarce Scotland Scottish shore shout sire song sought soul sound spear steed stern stood strain strife sword tale tell thee thine thou tide toil tower Twas twixt wake warrior wave ween wild Wilfrid wind youth
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154 ページ - O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best ; And save his good broad-sword he weapon had none, He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
56 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 burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go mark him well...
154 ページ - One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow,
154 ページ - I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied; Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide, And now I am 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.
12 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...
240 ページ - He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font reappearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest.
181 ページ - England's message here, Although the meanest in her state, May well, proud Angus, be thy mate : And, Douglas, more I tell thee here, Even in thy pitch of pride, Here, in thy hold, thy vassals near (Nay, never look upon your lord, And lay your...
212 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, Dream of fighting fields no more : Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
194 ページ - While many a broken band Disordered through her currents dash, To gain the Scottish land ; To town and tower, to down and dale, To tell red Flodden's dismal tale, And raise the universal wail. Tradition, legend, tune, and song Shall many an age that wail prolong ; Still from the sire the son shall hear Of the stern strife and carnage drear Of Flodden's fatal field. Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear And broken was her shield ! xxxv.
64 ページ - And glimmered all the dead men's mail. 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.