A selection from the works of sir Walter Scott. Ed. by M. Collins |
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xviii ページ
... fair spirits are often more to their taste than communion with men , their equals . But Scott was as good a friend even as Montaigne . In those six epistles he has , to quote Lockhart , painted his friends almost as fully as himself ...
... fair spirits are often more to their taste than communion with men , their equals . But Scott was as good a friend even as Montaigne . In those six epistles he has , to quote Lockhart , painted his friends almost as fully as himself ...
xxiii ページ
... fair- flowing river by which Helen dwelt before there was war in Troy . But the function of a selection is to guide those who read it to the complete works of the poet ; to quicken a desire to enter the temple whose statues have the ...
... fair- flowing river by which Helen dwelt before there was war in Troy . But the function of a selection is to guide those who read it to the complete works of the poet ; to quicken a desire to enter the temple whose statues have the ...
1 ページ
... fair her gems of azure hue , Beneath the dew - drop's weight reclining ; I've seen an eye of lovelier blue , More sweet through wat'ry lustre shining . The summer sun that dew shall dry , Ere yet the day be past its morrow ; Nor longer ...
... fair her gems of azure hue , Beneath the dew - drop's weight reclining ; I've seen an eye of lovelier blue , More sweet through wat'ry lustre shining . The summer sun that dew shall dry , Ere yet the day be past its morrow ; Nor longer ...
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... fair Tweedside ; And in Melrose's holy pile Seek thou the Monk of St. Mary's aisle . Greet the Father well from me ; Say that the fated hour is come , And to - night he shall watch with thee , To win the treasure of the tomb : For this ...
... fair Tweedside ; And in Melrose's holy pile Seek thou the Monk of St. Mary's aisle . Greet the Father well from me ; Say that the fated hour is come , And to - night he shall watch with thee , To win the treasure of the tomb : For this ...
19 ページ
... fair Melrose aright , Go visit it by the pale moonlight ; For the gay beams of lightsome day Gild , but to flout , the ruins grey . When the broken arches are black in night , And each shafted oriel glimmers white ; When the cold ...
... fair Melrose aright , Go visit it by the pale moonlight ; For the gay beams of lightsome day Gild , but to flout , the ruins grey . When the broken arches are black in night , And each shafted oriel glimmers white ; When the cold ...
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agen band banner beneath blade blithe blood bold bonny brand brave bright Brignall Brignall banks brow CHAPTER cloth gilt County Guy dark deep Deloraine Douglas dusky ridge dying e'er Eskdale fair Farewell fear fell fire Fitz-James Flodden gallant glance glen grace grave grey hall hand hath heard heart heaven hill holy ISAAC D'ISRAELI King knight ladies land Lochinvar Lord Marmion loud maid maiden mark'd Marmion martin wild merry minstrel Monarch MOTTOES mountain ne'er Netherby never noble Norsemen numbers o'er pass'd pibroch plaid plain pride proud ring Roderick Dhu round royal Saint SAINT CUTHBERT Saint Ronan Saxon scarce Scotland Scotland's Scott screaming song seem'd shalt shines sing Sir Walter Scott sleep snood song soul sound spear speed steed stern stood stream strife sword tell thee thine tower turn'd Twas voice warrior wave wild wind
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83 ページ - Netherby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late; For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. "So boldly he...
84 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...
35 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...
41 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...
192 ページ - He that is down needs fear no fall; He that is low no pride; He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide.
106 ページ - Dragg"d from among the horses' feet, With dinted shield, and helmet beat, The falcon-crest and plumage gone, Can that be haughty Marmion ! . . . Young Blount his armour did unlace, And, gazing on his ghastly face, Said — " By Saint George, he's gone ! That spear-wound has our master sped, And see the deep cut on his head ! Good-night to Marmion." — " Unnurtured Blount ! thy brawling cease : He opes his eyes...
194 ページ - Proud Maisie is in the wood, Walking so early; Sweet Robin sits on the bush, Singing so rarely. '"Tell me, thou bonny bird. When shall I marry me?' 'When six braw gentlemen Kirkward shall carry ye.' '"Who makes the bridal bed, Birdie, say truly?' — 'The grey-headed sexton, That delves the grave duly. "The glow-worm o'er grave and stone Shall light thee steady; The owl from the steeple sing, 'Welcome, proud lady.
169 ページ - A weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine ! To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, And press the rue for wine ! A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A feather of the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green, — No more of me you knew, My love ! No more of me yon knew.
84 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,
102 ページ - Troop after troop are disappearing ; Troop after troop their banners rearing, Upon the eastern bank you see. Still pouring down the rocky den, Where flows the sullen Till, And rising from the dim-wood glen, Standards on standards, men on men, In slow succession still, And sweeping o'er the Gothic arch, And pressing on, in ceaseless march, To gain the opposing hill.