The poetical works of sir Walter Scott. With prefatory notice by W. Sharp, 第 2 巻 |
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16 ページ
... forest feather'd o'er His ruin'd sides and summit hoar , While on the north , through middle air , Ben - a'an heaved high his forehead bare . XV . From the steep promontory gazed The stranger , 16 THE LADY OF THE LAKE .
... forest feather'd o'er His ruin'd sides and summit hoar , While on the north , through middle air , Ben - a'an heaved high his forehead bare . XV . From the steep promontory gazed The stranger , 16 THE LADY OF THE LAKE .
17 ページ
... stranger , raptured and amazed . And , " What a scene was here , " he cried , " For princely pomp , or churchman's pride ! On this bold brow , a lordly tower ; In that soft vale , a lady's bower ; On yonder meadow , far away , The ...
... stranger , raptured and amazed . And , " What a scene was here , " he cried , " For princely pomp , or churchman's pride ! On this bold brow , a lordly tower ; In that soft vale , a lady's bower ; On yonder meadow , far away , The ...
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... stranger I , " the Huntsman said , Advancing from the hazel shade . The maid , alarm'd , with hasty oar , Push'd her light shallop from the shore , And when a space was gain'd between , Closer she drew her bosom's screen ; ( So forth ...
... stranger I , " the Huntsman said , Advancing from the hazel shade . The maid , alarm'd , with hasty oar , Push'd her light shallop from the shore , And when a space was gain'd between , Closer she drew her bosom's screen ; ( So forth ...
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... stranger gazed . Not his the form , nor his the eye , That youthful maidens wont to fly . XXI . On his bold visage middle age Had slightly press'd its signet sage , Yet had not quench'd the open truth And fiery vehemence of youth ...
... stranger gazed . Not his the form , nor his the eye , That youthful maidens wont to fly . XXI . On his bold visage middle age Had slightly press'd its signet sage , Yet had not quench'd the open truth And fiery vehemence of youth ...
23 ページ
... stranger smiled : - " Since to your home A destined errant - knight I come , Announced by prophet sooth and old , Doom'd , doubtless , for achievement bold , I'll lightly front each high emprise , For one kind glance of those bright ...
... stranger smiled : - " Since to your home A destined errant - knight I come , Announced by prophet sooth and old , Doom'd , doubtless , for achievement bold , I'll lightly front each high emprise , For one kind glance of those bright ...
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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!