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... Scottish Maid should sing The combat where her lover fell ! That Scottish Bard should wake the string , The triumph of our foes to tell ! -Leyden . LONDON : PRINTED BY J. M'CREERY , BLACK - HORSE - COURT , FOR ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND ...
... Scottish Maid should sing The combat where her lover fell ! That Scottish Bard should wake the string , The triumph of our foes to tell ! -Leyden . LONDON : PRINTED BY J. M'CREERY , BLACK - HORSE - COURT , FOR ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND ...
40 ページ
... Scottish court addressed , I journey at our king's behest , And pray you , of your grace , provide For me , and mine , a trusty guide . I have not ridden in Scotland since James backed the cause of that mock prince , Warbeck , that ...
... Scottish court addressed , I journey at our king's behest , And pray you , of your grace , provide For me , and mine , a trusty guide . I have not ridden in Scotland since James backed the cause of that mock prince , Warbeck , that ...
41 ページ
... Scottish ground , as to Dunbar ; Have drunk the monks of St. Bothan's ale , And driven the beeves of Lauderdale ; Harried the wives of Greenlaw's goods , And given them light to set their hoods . " - XX . " Now , in good sooth , " Lord ...
... Scottish ground , as to Dunbar ; Have drunk the monks of St. Bothan's ale , And driven the beeves of Lauderdale ; Harried the wives of Greenlaw's goods , And given them light to set their hoods . " - XX . " Now , in good sooth , " Lord ...
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... Scottish side : And , though a bishop built this fort , Few holy brethren here resort ; Even our good chaplain , as I ween , Since our last siege , we have not seen : The mass he might not sing or say , Upon one stinted meal a day ; So ...
... Scottish side : And , though a bishop built this fort , Few holy brethren here resort ; Even our good chaplain , as I ween , Since our last siege , we have not seen : The mass he might not sing or say , Upon one stinted meal a day ; So ...
45 ページ
... Scottish side . The vowed revenge of Bughtrig rude , May end in worse than loss of hood . Let Friar John , in safety , still In chimney - corner snore his fill , Roast hissing crabs , or flagons swill : Last night , to Norham there came ...
... Scottish side . The vowed revenge of Bughtrig rude , May end in worse than loss of hood . Let Friar John , in safety , still In chimney - corner snore his fill , Roast hissing crabs , or flagons swill : Last night , to Norham there came ...
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多く使われている語句
Abbess ancient Angus arms array band banner battle beneath blast Blount bold Border brand called CANTO castle Clare cross Cuthbert dame dark deep Douglas Earl Earl of Angus Earl of Mar Edinburgh England English Ettricke Forest Eustace fair fear fell fight Fitz-Eustace Flodden foes gallant grace grave Guenever hall hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Hilda hill holy Holy Island honoured horse host James IV King James king's knight Lady land light Lindesay Lindisfarn look Lord Marmion loud maid merry minstrel monarch monks mountain ne'er noble Norham Norham Castle Northumberland Note nought o'er Palmer passed Perchance Pitscottie plain pray rest rode round royal rude scarce Scotland Scottish shew shield Sir Launcelot spear squire steed stood summons Surrey sword tale Tamworth Tantallon tell thee Thomas Gray thou thought tide tower Twas Whitby Whitby's wild Wilton
人気のある引用
260 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.
128 ページ - To him the venerable Priest, Our frequent and familiar guest, Whose life and manners well could paint Alike the student and the saint ; Alas ! whose speech too oft I broke With gambol rude and timeless joke : For I was wayward, bold, and wild, A self-will'd imp, a grandame's child ; But half a plague, and half a jest, Was still endured, beloved, caress'd.
339 ページ - 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. — A letter forged ! Saint Jude to speed! Did ever knight so foul a deed ! At first in heart it liked me ill, When the King praised his clerkly skill. Thanks to Saint Bothan, son of mine, Save Gawain, ne'er could pen a line : So swore I, and I swear it still, Let my boy-bishop fret his fill.
259 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.
362 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...
258 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 weapons 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.
364 ページ - Or injured Constance, bathes my head !" Then, as remembrance rose,— " Speak not to me of shrift or prayer ! I must redress her woes. Short space, few words, are mine to spare; Forgive and listen, gentle Clare!"— " Alas! " she said, " the while,— 0 think of your immortal weal ! In vain for Constance is your zeal; She died at Holy Isle.
338 ページ - I tell thee, thou'rt defied! And if thou saidst I am not peer To any lord in Scotland here, Lowland or Highland, far or near, Lord Angus, thou hast lied...
337 ページ - Douglas' head ! And, first, I tell thee, haughty Peer, He, who does England's message here, Although the meanest in her state, May well, proud Angus, be thy mate : And, Douglas, more I tell thee here...
354 ページ - But see ! look up — on Flodden bent The Scottish foe has fired his tent." And sudden, as he spoke, From the sharp ridges of the hill,* All downward to the banks of Till, Was wreathed in sable smoke. Volumed...