And if thou saidst I am not peer Fierce he broke forth,-' And darest thou then The Douglas in his hall? And hopest thou hence unscathed to go? Lord Marmion turned-well was his need— The steed along the drawbridge flies And when Lord Marmion reached his band, And shout of loud defiance pours, And shook his gauntlet at the towers. 'Horse! horse!' the Douglas cried, ' and chase!' But soon he reined his fury's pace: A royal messenger he came, Though most unworthy of the name.— When the king praised his clerkly skill. SIR WALTER SCOTT NOVEMBER-ENGLISH WEATHER No sun-no moon! No morn-no noon No dawn-no dusk-no proper time of dayNo sky-no earthly view— No distant looking blue No road-no street-no 't'other side the way No end to any row— No indications where the crescents go No top to any steeple No recognitions of familiar people- No traveling at all-no locomotion- No mail-no post No news from any foreign coast No park-no ring-no afternoon gentility- No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, THOMAS HOOD ON THE DEATH OF A MAD DOG GOOD people all, of every sort, Give ear unto my song; In Islington there was a Man, A kind and gentle heart he had, To comfort friends and foes: The naked every day he clad— When he put on his clothes. And in that town a Dog was found, Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, This Dog and Man at first were friends; The Dog to gain some private ends, Around from all the neighboring streets But soon a wonder came to light, OLIVER GOLDSMITH THE TWA CORBIES As I was walking all alane I heard twa corbies making a mane: '-In behint yon auld fail dyke 'His hound is to the hunting gane, His hawk to fetch the wild fowl hame, So we may mak our dinner sweet. 'Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane, And I'll pike out his bonny blue e'en: Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair We'll theek our nest when it grows bare. 'Mony a one for him maks mane, But none sall ken whar he is gane; OLD BALLAD |