The Lay of the Last Minstrel: A PoemLongman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, Paternoster-row, and A. Constable and Company Edinburgh, 1805 - 332 ページ |
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... side ? Is it the wind that swings the oaks ? Is it the echo from the rocks ? What may it be , the heavy sound , That moans old Branksome's turrets round ? XIII . At the sullen , moaning sound , The ban - dogs bay and howl ; And , from ...
... side ? Is it the wind that swings the oaks ? Is it the echo from the rocks ? What may it be , the heavy sound , That moans old Branksome's turrets round ? XIII . At the sullen , moaning sound , The ban - dogs bay and howl ; And , from ...
18 ページ
... side , From the groan of the wind - swung oak , From the sullen echo of the rock , From the voice of the coming storm , The Ladye knew it well ! It was the Spirit of the Flood that spoke , And he called on the Spirit of the Fell . XV ...
... side , From the groan of the wind - swung oak , From the sullen echo of the rock , From the voice of the coming storm , The Ladye knew it well ! It was the Spirit of the Flood that spoke , And he called on the Spirit of the Fell . XV ...
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... side of the hill- But round Lord David's tower The sound still floated near ; For it rung in the Ladye's bower , And it rung in the Ladye's ear . She raised her stately head , And her heart throbbed high with pride : " Your mountains ...
... side of the hill- But round Lord David's tower The sound still floated near ; For it rung in the Ladye's bower , And it rung in the Ladye's ear . She raised her stately head , And her heart throbbed high with pride : " Your mountains ...
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... side he won . Eastward the wooded path he rode ; Green hazels o'er his basnet nod : He passed the Peel † of Goldiland , And crossed old Borthwick's roaring strand ; Dimly he viewed the Moat - hill's mound , Where Druid shades still ...
... side he won . Eastward the wooded path he rode ; Green hazels o'er his basnet nod : He passed the Peel † of Goldiland , And crossed old Borthwick's roaring strand ; Dimly he viewed the Moat - hill's mound , Where Druid shades still ...
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... had brightened the Carter's * side ; And soon beneath the rising day Smiled Branksome towers and Teviot's tide . * A mountain on the border of England , above Jedburgh . The wild birds told their warbling tale , And wakened 52.
... had brightened the Carter's * side ; And soon beneath the rising day Smiled Branksome towers and Teviot's tide . * A mountain on the border of England , above Jedburgh . The wild birds told their warbling tale , And wakened 52.
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ancient arms band bard Baron beneath betwixt blaze blood blood-hound Border bower Branksome Branksome Hall Branksome's brave broken lance Buccleuch called CANTO castle Cessford chapel chief clan courser cross Cumberland dæmons Dame dead devyll Douglas dread Duke Earl Earl of Angus Eildon hills English Ettricke Forest fair on Carlisle fight hall hand harp Hawick heard highnes horse Howard James Jedburgh king Kirkwall knight Ladye laird lance lands LAST MINSTREL Liddesdale Lord Dacre Margaret Melrose Michael MINSTREL moss-trooper Musgrave Naworth Castle ne'er never noble o'er ride rode Roslin round rung sayd Scot Scotland Scottish Scottish Border shew shulde Sir William slain song spear St Clair steed stone stood sun shines fair sword Teviot's Teviotdale thee theyme theyre Thomas Musgrave thou Tinlinn tomb tower Twas tyme Virgilius Walter Scott warden warrior ween wild William of Deloraine wound XXIII
人気のある引用
190 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? When...
7 ページ - Where she with all her ladies sate, Perchance he wished his boon denied: For, when to tune his harp he tried, His trembling hand had lost the ease Which marks security to please...
160 ページ - From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim, — Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
137 ページ - True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven : It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly ; It liveth not in fierce desire, With dead desire it doth not die ; It is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, In body and in soul can bind.
180 ページ - Tis not because the ring they ride, And Lindesay at the ring rides well, But that my sire the wine will chide, If 'tis not fill'd by Rosabelle...
3 ページ - Seemed to have known a better day ; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by an orphan boy. The last of all the Bards was he, Who sung of Border chivalry; For, well-a-day ! their date was fled, His tuneful brethren all were dead; And he, neglected and oppressed, Wished to be with them, and at rest.
125 ページ - CALL it not vain : — they do not err, Who say, that when the Poet dies, Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, And celebrates his obsequies : Who say, tall cliff, and cavern lone, For the departed Bard make moan ; That mountains weep in crystal rill ; That flowers in tears of bahn distil; Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, And oaks, in deeper groan, reply ; And rivers teach their rushing wave To murmur dirges round his grave.
182 ページ - Blazed battlement and pinnet high, Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair — So still they blaze, when fate is nigh The lordly line of high Saint Clair. There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold Lie buried within that proud chapelle...
44 ページ - Some of his skill he taught to me ; And, warrior, I could say to thee The words that cleft Eildon hills in three, And bridled the Tweed with a curb of stone...
160 ページ - O Caledonia ! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child ! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood, Land of my sires ! what mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band, That knits me to thy rugged strand ! Still, as I view each well-known scene, Think what is now, and what hath been, Seems as, to me, of all bereft, Sole friends thy woods and streams were left ; And thus I love them better still, Even in extremity of ill.