The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Bart. ..., 第 8 巻

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A. and C. Black, 1880
 

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39 ページ - In all her length far winding lay, With promontory, creek, and bay, And islands that, empurpled bright, Floated amid the livelier light, And mountains, that like giants stand, To sentinel enchanted land.
367 ページ - To track the buck in thicket green : Now we come to chant our lay, " Waken, lords and ladies gay." Waken, lords and ladies gay, To the greenwood haste away. We can show you where he lies, Fleet of foot and tall of size ; We can show the marks he made When 'gainst the oak his antlers frayed ; You shall see him brought to bay,
90 ページ - Some feelings are to mortals given, With less of earth in them than heaven : And if there be a human tear From passion's dross refined and clear, A tear so limpid and so meek, It would not stain an angel's cheek, 'Tis that which pious fathers shed Upon a duteous daughter's head...
135 ページ - He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font reappearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest.
58 ページ - SOLDIER, rest! thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking; Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more: Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
366 ページ - Hounds are in their couples yelling, Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, Merrily, merrily, mingle they, " Waken, lords and ladies gay." Waken, lords and ladies gay...
274 ページ - The Minstrel came once more to view The eastern ridge of Benvenue, For ere he parted, he would say Farewell to lovely Loch Achray — Where shall he find, in foreign land, So lone a lake, so sweet a strand...
222 ページ - Who ill deserved my courteous care, And whose best boast is but to wear A braid of his fair lady's hair." " I thank thee, Roderick, for the word, It nerves my heart, it steels my sword ; For I have sworn this braid to stain In the best blood that warms thy vein. Now, truce, farewell ! and ruth begone...
195 ページ - Thou darest not call thyself a foe?" — " I dare ! to him and all the band He brings to aid his murderous hand." — "Bold words! — but, though the beast of game The privilege of chase may claim, Though space and law the stag we lend, Ere hound we slip, or bow we bend, Who ever reck'd, where, how, or when, The prowling fox was trapp'd or slain?
215 ページ - 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.

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