The poetical works of sir Walter Scott. With prefatory notice by W. Sharp, 第 2 巻 |
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180 ページ
... Ronald , from many a hero sprung , The fair , the valiant , and the young , LORD OF THE ISLES , whose lofty name A thousand bards have given to fame , The mate of monarchs , and allied On equal terms with England's pride.— From ...
... Ronald , from many a hero sprung , The fair , the valiant , and the young , LORD OF THE ISLES , whose lofty name A thousand bards have given to fame , The mate of monarchs , and allied On equal terms with England's pride.— From ...
181 ページ
... Ronald's destined bride . Ere yet I saw him , while afar His broadsword blazed in Scotland's war , Train'd to believe our fates the same , My bosom throbb'd when Ronald's name Came gracing Fame's heroic tale , Like perfume on the summer ...
... Ronald's destined bride . Ere yet I saw him , while afar His broadsword blazed in Scotland's war , Train'd to believe our fates the same , My bosom throbb'd when Ronald's name Came gracing Fame's heroic tale , Like perfume on the summer ...
182 ページ
... Ronald's deeds in battle bold ? Who touch'd the harp to heroes ' praise , But his achievements swell'd the lays ? Even Morag , not a tale of fame Was hers but closed with Ronald's name . He came and all that had been told Of his high ...
... Ronald's deeds in battle bold ? Who touch'd the harp to heroes ' praise , But his achievements swell'd the lays ? Even Morag , not a tale of fame Was hers but closed with Ronald's name . He came and all that had been told Of his high ...
183 ページ
... Ronald comes , and while in speed His galley mates the flying steed , He chides her sloth ! " - Fair Edith sigh'd , Blush'd , sadly smiled , and thus replied : - XIII . " Sweet thought , but vain ! -No , Morag ! mark , Type of his ...
... Ronald comes , and while in speed His galley mates the flying steed , He chides her sloth ! " - Fair Edith sigh'd , Blush'd , sadly smiled , and thus replied : - XIII . " Sweet thought , but vain ! -No , Morag ! mark , Type of his ...
184 ページ
... Ronald's fleet swept by , Streamer'd with silk , and trick'd with gold , Mann'd with the noble and the bold Of Island chivalry . Around their prows the ocean roars , And chafes beneath their thousand oars , Yet bears them on their way ...
... Ronald's fleet swept by , Streamer'd with silk , and trick'd with gold , Mann'd with the noble and the bold Of Island chivalry . Around their prows the ocean roars , And chafes beneath their thousand oars , Yet bears them on their way ...
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agen Answer'd Argentine 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 pause 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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73 ページ - 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. Fleet foot on the correi...
18 ページ - With head upraised, and look intent, And eye and ear attentive bent, And locks flung back and lips apart, Like monument of Grecian art, In listening mood, she seem'd to stand, The guardian Naiad of the strand.
29 ページ - Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done, While our slumbrous spells assail ye, Dream not with the rising sun, Bugles here shall sound reveille. Sleep ! the deer is in his den ; Sleep! thy hounds are by thee lying; Sleep ! nor dream in yonder glen, How thy gallant steed lay dying. Huntsman, rest ! thy chase is done, Think not of the rising sun, For at dawning to assail ye, Here no bugles sound reveille.
9 ページ - The antler'd monarch of the waste Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. But, ere his fleet career he took, The dew-drops from his flanks he shook ; Like crested leader proud and high...
154 ページ - 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?
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...
28 ページ - No rude sound shall reach thine ear, Armour's clang, or war-steed champing Trump nor pibroch summon here Mustering clan, or squadron tramping. Yet the lark's shrill fife may come At the daybreak from the fallow, And the bittern sound his drum, Booming from the sedgy shallow. Ruder sounds shall none be near, Guards nor warders challenge here, Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing, Shouting clans, or squadrons stamping.
61 ページ - Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore, Who danced our infancy upon their knee, And told our marvelling boyhood legends store, Of their strange ventures happ'd by land or sea, How are they blotted from the things that be ! How few, all weak and wither'd of their force, Wait on the verge of dark eternity, Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse, To sweep them from our sight! Time rolls his ceaseless course.
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.
79 ページ - The heath this night must be my bed, The bracken curtain for my head, My lullaby the warder's tread, Far, far, from love and thee, Mary; To-morrow eve, more stilly laid, My couch may be my bloody plaid, My vesper song thy wail, sweet maid! It will not waken me, Mary!