The Lay of the Last Minstrel: A PoemLongman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, Paternoster-row, and A. Constable and Company Edinburgh, 1805 - 332 ページ |
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7 ページ
... gave him heart , and gave him time , Till every string's according glee Was blended into harmony . And then , he said , he would full fain He could recal an ancient strain , He never thought to sing again . It was not framed for village ...
... gave him heart , and gave him time , Till every string's according glee Was blended into harmony . And then , he said , he would full fain He could recal an ancient strain , He never thought to sing again . It was not framed for village ...
31 ページ
... Gave praises to his melody ; His hand was true , his voice was clear , And much they longed the rest to hear . Encouraged thus , the Aged Man , After meet rest , again began . THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL . CANTO SECOND . 31.
... Gave praises to his melody ; His hand was true , his voice was clear , And much they longed the rest to hear . Encouraged thus , the Aged Man , After meet rest , again began . THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL . CANTO SECOND . 31.
44 ページ
... His conscience was awakened ; He bethought him of his sinful deed , And he gave me a sign to come with speed : I was in Spain when the morning rose , But I stood by his bed ere evening close . · The words may not again be said , That he 44.
... His conscience was awakened ; He bethought him of his sinful deed , And he gave me a sign to come with speed : I was in Spain when the morning rose , But I stood by his bed ere evening close . · The words may not again be said , That he 44.
60 ページ
... gave the withered hand of age A goblet , crowned with mighty wine , The blood of Velez ' scorched vine . He raised the silver cup on high , And , while the big drop filled his eye , Prayed God to bless the Duchess long , And all who ...
... gave the withered hand of age A goblet , crowned with mighty wine , The blood of Velez ' scorched vine . He raised the silver cup on high , And , while the big drop filled his eye , Prayed God to bless the Duchess long , And all who ...
67 ページ
... Gave signal soon of dire debate . Their very coursers seemed to know That each was other's mortal foe ; And snorted fire , when wheeled around , To give each knight his vantage ground . V. In rapid round the Baron bent ; He sighed 67.
... Gave signal soon of dire debate . Their very coursers seemed to know That each was other's mortal foe ; And snorted fire , when wheeled around , To give each knight his vantage ground . V. In rapid round the Baron bent ; He sighed 67.
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ancient arms band bard Baron beneath betwixt Bewcastle blaze blood blood-hound Border Branksome Branksome Hall Branksome's brave Buccleuch called CANTO castle Cessford chapel chief clan courser cross Cumberland dæmons Dame dark dead devyll Douglas dread Duke Earl Earl of Angus Eildon hills English Ettricke Forest fair on Carlisle fight friends hall hand harp Hawick heard highnes horse Howard James Jedburgh king Kirkwall knight Ladye laird lands LAST MINSTREL Liddesdale Lord Dacre Margaret Melrose Michael MINSTREL moss-trooper Musgrave Naworth Castle ne'er never noble o'er ride rode Roslin round rung sayd Scot Scotland 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 tomb tower Twas tyme Virgilius Walter Scott warden warrior wave ween wild William of Deloraine wound XXIII
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22 ページ - In Eske or Liddel, fords were none, But he would ride them, one by one ; Alike to him was time or tide, December's snow, or July's pride ; Alike to him was tide or time, Moonless midnight, or matin prime : Steady of heart, and stout of hand, As ever drove prey from Cumberland ; Five times outlawed had he been, By England's King, and Scotland's Queen.
162 ページ - From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim, — Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
7 ページ - Where she, with all her ladies, sate, Perchance he wished his boon denied: For, when to tune his harp he tried, His trembling hand had lost the ease Which marks security to please...
139 ページ - True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven : It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly ; It liveth not in fierce desire, With dead desire it doth not die ; It is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, In body and in soul can bind.
182 ページ - 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 fill'd by Rosabelle...
192 ページ - That day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay? How shall he meet that dreadful day?
3 ページ - Seemed to have known a better day; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by .an orphan boy. The last of all the Bards was he, Who sung of Border chivalry; For, well-a-day! their date was fled, His tuneful brethren all were dead; And he, neglected and oppressed, Wished to be with them, and at rest.
44 ページ - Some of his skill he taught to me ; And, warrior, I could say to thee The words that cleft Eildon hills in three, And bridled the Tweed with a curb of stone...
162 ページ - O Caledonia ! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child ! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood, Land of my sires ! what mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band, That knits me to thy rugged strand ! Still, as I view each well-known scene, Think what is now, and what hath been, Seems as, to me, of all bereft, Sole friends thy woods and streams were left ; And thus I love them better still, Even in extremity of ill.
161 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...