The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott: With Prefatory Notice, Biographical and Critical, 第 1 巻W. Scott, 1886 - 359 ページ |
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... , moss and moor , And ponder'd refuge from his toil , By far Lochard or Aberfoyle . But nearer was the copsewood grey , That waved and wept on Loch - Achray , And mingled with the pine - trees blue On the ΙΟ THE LADY OF THE LAKE .
... , moss and moor , And ponder'd refuge from his toil , By far Lochard or Aberfoyle . But nearer was the copsewood grey , That waved and wept on Loch - Achray , And mingled with the pine - trees blue On the ΙΟ THE LADY OF THE LAKE .
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... grey ! " X. Then through the dell his horn resounds , From vain pursuit to call the hounds . Back limp'd , with slow and crippled pace , The sulky leaders of the chase ; Close to their master's side they press'd , With drooping tail and ...
... grey ! " X. Then through the dell his horn resounds , From vain pursuit to call the hounds . Back limp'd , with slow and crippled pace , The sulky leaders of the chase ; Close to their master's side they press'd , With drooping tail and ...
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... Grey birch and aspen wept beneath ; Aloft , the ash and warrior oak Cast anchor in the rifted rock ; And , higher yet , the pine - tree hung His shatter'd trunk , and frequent flung , Where seem'd the cliffs to meet on high , His boughs ...
... Grey birch and aspen wept beneath ; Aloft , the ash and warrior oak Cast anchor in the rifted rock ; And , higher yet , the pine - tree hung His shatter'd trunk , and frequent flung , Where seem'd the cliffs to meet on high , His boughs ...
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... grey ; How blithely might the bugle - horn Chide , on the lake , the lingering morn ! How sweet , at eve , the lover's lute Chime , when the groves were still and mute ! And , when the midnight moon should lave Her forehead in the ...
... grey ; How blithely might the bugle - horn Chide , on the lake , the lingering morn ! How sweet , at eve , the lover's lute Chime , when the groves were still and mute ! And , when the midnight moon should lave Her forehead in the ...
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... grey - hair'd sire , whose eye intent Was on the vision'd future bent . He saw your steed , a dappled grey , Lie dead beneath the birchen way ; Painted exact your form and mien , Your hunting suit of Lincoln green , That tassel'd horn ...
... grey - hair'd sire , whose eye intent Was on the vision'd future bent . He saw your steed , a dappled grey , Lie dead beneath the birchen way ; Painted exact your form and mien , Your hunting suit of Lincoln green , That tassel'd horn ...
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agen Answer'd Argentine arms band battle beneath blade blood bold bower brand brave breast bride bright broadsword brow Bruce chase cheer Chieftain clan Clan-Alpine's cliffs Colonsay County Guy courser crest cried dark deep deer Douglas dread drew Edith Edward Bruce Ellen fair Fair Lords falchion fear fell fierce Fitz-James gallant gallant band glance glen grace Græme grey hand harp hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill hound Isabel isle King knight lady lake lance land Liege light Loch Katrine lone Lord Ronald Lorn loud maid maiden mark'd minstrel Monarch morn mountain ne'er noble o'er pibroch plaid pride rock Roderick Dhu Saxon Scotland Scotland's seem'd shallop shore shout sire smile song sought sound spear speed spoke steed stern stranger strife sword tartans tears tell thee thine thou tide tower turn'd Twas vex'd wake warrior wave wild Wildgrave wind yonder
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74 ページ - But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest. Fleet foot on the correi, Sage counsel in cumber, Red hand in the foray, . ' How sound is thy slumber ! Like the dew on the mountain, Like the foam on the river, Like the bubble on the fountain, Thou art gone, and for ever ! xvn.
45 ページ - And near, and nearer as they row'd, Distinct the martial ditty flow'd. Song. Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances ! Honour'd and bless'd be the ever-green Pine ! Long may the tree, in his banner that glances, Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line...
156 ページ - That swathes, as with a purple shroud, Benledi's distant hill. Is it the thunder's solemn sound That mutters deep and dread, Or echoes from the groaning ground The warrior's measured tread ? Is it the lightning's quivering glance That on the thicket streams, Or do they flash on spear and lance The sun's retiring beams...
122 ページ - Returned the chief his haughty stare, His back against a rock he bore, And firmly placed his foot before : " Come one, come all! this rock shall fly From its firm base as soon as I.
124 ページ - I ne'er delayed, When foeman bade me draw my blade ; Nay, more, brave Chief, I vowed thy death: Yet sure thy fair and generous faith, And my deep debt for life preserved, A better meed have well deserved : Can nought but blood our feud atone ? Are there no means...
62 ページ - The torrent show'd its glistening pride ; Invisible in flecked sky, The lark sent down her revelry ; The blackbird and the speckled thrush Good-morrow gave from brake and bush; In answer coo'd the cushat dove Her notes of peace, and rest, and love.
167 ページ - Midst furs and silks and jewels sheen He stood, in simple Lincoln green, The centre of the glittering ring, — And Snowdoun's Knight is Scotland's King!
351 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 glowworm o'er grave and stone Shall light thee steady; The owl from the steeple sing, 'Welcome, proud lady.
354 ページ - O, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows, It calls but the warders that guard thy repose ; Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red, Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.
121 ページ - From crag to crag the signal flew. Instant, through copse and heath, arose Bonnets and spears and bended bows ; On right, on left, above, below, Sprung up at once the lurking foe ; From shingles grey their lances start ; The bracken bush sends forth the dart ; The rushes and the willow-wand Are bristling into axe and brand ; And every tuft of broom gives life To plaided warrior armed for strife.