The lay of the last minstrel, a poem. With Ballads and lyrical pieces |
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21 ページ
... heard the slogan's * deadly yell— Then the Chief of Branksome fell . VIII . Can piety the discord heal , Or staunch the death - feud's enmity ? Can Christian lore , can patriot zeal , Can love of blessed charity ? No ! vainly to each ...
... heard the slogan's * deadly yell— Then the Chief of Branksome fell . VIII . Can piety the discord heal , Or staunch the death - feud's enmity ? Can Christian lore , can patriot zeal , Can love of blessed charity ? No ! vainly to each ...
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... 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 . Short halt did Deloraine ...
... 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 . Short halt did Deloraine ...
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... aisles they passed , They heard strange noises on the blast ; And through the cloister - galleries small , Which at mid - height thread the chancel wall , Loud sobs , and laughter louder , ran , And 58 CANTO 11 . THE LAY OF.
... aisles they passed , They heard strange noises on the blast ; And through the cloister - galleries small , Which at mid - height thread the chancel wall , Loud sobs , and laughter louder , ran , And 58 CANTO 11 . THE LAY OF.
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... heard a voice cry , " Lost ! lost ! lost ! " And , like tennis - ball by raquet tossed , 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 ...
... heard a voice cry , " Lost ! lost ! lost ! " And , like tennis - ball by raquet tossed , 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 ...
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... - For aye the more he sought his way , The farther still he went astray , - Until he heard the mountains round Ring to the baying of a hound . way . XV . And hark ! and hark ! the deep CANTO III . 88 THE LAST MINSTREL .
... - For aye the more he sought his way , The farther still he went astray , - Until he heard the mountains round Ring to the baying of a hound . way . XV . And hark ! and hark ! the deep CANTO III . 88 THE LAST MINSTREL .
多く使われている語句
ancient arms band bard Baron Beattisons beneath betwixt blaze blood blood-hound Border Branksome Branksome Hall Branksome's brave Buccleuch called CANTO castle chapel chief clan courser crest cross Cumberland dæmons Dame dead death Douglas dread Duke Earl Earl of Angus Eildon Hills English Eskdale Ettricke Ettricke Forest fair on Carlisle Fawdon fight fire gallant hall hand harp head heard heart highnes hill horse Howard James Jedburgh king Kirkwall knight Ladye lances lands LAST MINSTREL Liddisdale Lord Dacre Melrose Michael Scott MINSTREL moss-trooper Musgrave Naworth Castle ne'er noble Note o'er ride rode Roslin round rung sayd Scotland Scots Scottish Scottish Border shew shulde Sir William slain song spear St Clair steed stone stood sun shines fair sword Teviot's Teviotdale thee theyme theyre Thomas Musgrave thou Tinlinn tower Twas tyme Virgilius warriors ween wild William of Deloraine word wound
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197 ページ - Twas broader than the watch-fire light, And redder than the bright moon-beam. It glared on Roslin's castled rock, • It ruddied all the copse-wood glen ; Twas seen from Dreyden's groves of oak, And seen from caverned Hawthornden. Seemed all on fire that chapel proud, Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffined lie
99 ページ - THE LAST MINSTREL. CANTO FOURTH. THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. CANTO FOURTH. I. SWEET Teviot! on thy silver tide The glaring bale-fires blaze no more; No longer steel-clad warriors ride Along thy wild and willowed shore; Where'er thou wind'st by dale or hill, As if thy waves, since Time was born, Since first they
196 ページ - Tis not because Lord Lindesay's heir To-night at Roslin leads the ball, But that my ladye-mother there Sits lonely in her castle-hall. " Tis not because the ring they ride, And Lindesay at the ring rides well, But that my sire the wine will chide, If'tis not filled by Rosabelle."— O'er Roslin all that dreary night A wondrous blaze was seen
22 ページ - nor tear! Vengeance, deep-brooding o'er the slain, Had locked the source of softer woe; And burning pride, and high disdain, Forbade the rising tear to flow; Until, amid his sorrowing clan, Her son lisped from the nurse's knee— " And, if I live to be a man, My father's death revenged shall be
79 ページ - seem a palace large, And youth seem age, and age seem youth— All was delusion, nought was truth. X. He had not read another spell, When on his cheek a buffet fell, So fierce, it stretched him on the plain, Beside the wounded Deloraine. From the ground he rose dismayed, And shook his huge and matted
201 ページ - as Deloraine; His blood did freeze, his brain did burn, 'Twas feared his mind would ne'er return; For he was speechless, ghastly, wan, Like him, of whom the story ran, Who spoke the spectre-hound in Man.* At length, by fits, he darkly told, With broken hint, and shuddering cold—
240 ページ - youth with ambition to do? Why left I Amynta ? Why broke I my vow ? Through regions remote in vain do I rove, And bid the wide world secure me from love. Ah, fool, to imagine, that aught could subdue A love so well founded, a passion so true ! Ah, give me my sheep, and my
206 ページ - Then mass was sung, and prayers were said, And solemn requiem for the dead; And bells tolled out their mighty peal, For the departed spirit's weal; And ever in the office close The hymn of intercession rose; And far the echoing aisles prolong The awful burthen of the song,— DIES
17 ページ - Maria, shield us well! No living wight, save the Ladye alone, II. The tables were drawn, it was idlesse all; Knight, and page, and household squire, Loitered through the lofty hall, Or crowded round the ample fire : The stag-hounds, weary with the chace, Lay stretched upon the rushy floor, And urged, in dreams, the
25 ページ - And listens to a heavy sound. That moans the mossy turrets round. Is it the roar of Teviot's tide, That chafes against the scaur's * red side ? Is it the wind, that swings the oaks ? Is it the echo from the rocks ? What may it be, the heavy sound, That moans old Branksome's turrets round