The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott: With Memoir of the AuthorNelson, 1862 - 612 pages |
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Page xi
... rose . The prospect of increasing the latter drove this powerful man into projects , -editions of the poets , and what not . Yet his partnerships were secret . His attendance at the Scottish Westminster was constant . Still it was plain ...
... rose . The prospect of increasing the latter drove this powerful man into projects , -editions of the poets , and what not . Yet his partnerships were secret . His attendance at the Scottish Westminster was constant . Still it was plain ...
Page 14
... rose , and fair Tweed ran : Like some tall rock , with lichens grey , Seemed dimly huge , the dark Abbaye . When Hawick he passed , had curfew rung , Now midnight lauds * were in Melrose sung . The sound , upon the fitful gale , In ...
... rose , and fair Tweed ran : Like some tall rock , with lichens grey , Seemed dimly huge , the dark Abbaye . When Hawick he passed , had curfew rung , Now midnight lauds * were in Melrose sung . The sound , upon the fitful gale , In ...
Page 16
... rose high aloof On pillars lofty and light and small : The key - stone , that locked each ribbed aisle , Was a Heur - de - lys , or a quatre - feuille ; The corbells were carved grotesque and grim ; And the 16 [ Canto II . THE LAY OF ...
... rose high aloof On pillars lofty and light and small : The key - stone , that locked each ribbed aisle , Was a Heur - de - lys , or a quatre - feuille ; The corbells were carved grotesque and grim ; And the 16 [ Canto II . THE LAY OF ...
Page 18
... rose , But I stood by his bed ere evening close . The words may not again be said , That he spoke to me , on death - bed laid ; They would rend this Abbaye's massy nave , And pile it in heaps above his grave . XV . " I swore to bury his ...
... rose , But I stood by his bed ere evening close . The words may not again be said , That he spoke to me , on death - bed laid ; They would rend this Abbaye's massy nave , And pile it in heaps above his grave . XV . " I swore to bury his ...
Page 21
... rose . And lovelier than the rose so red , Yet paler than the violet pale , She early left her sleepless bed , The fairest maid of Teviotdale . XXVI . Why does fair Margaret so early awake , And don her kirtle so hastilie ; And the ...
... rose . And lovelier than the rose so red , Yet paler than the violet pale , She early left her sleepless bed , The fairest maid of Teviotdale . XXVI . Why does fair Margaret so early awake , And don her kirtle so hastilie ; And the ...
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Common terms and phrases
arms band battle bear beneath blood bold brand brave breast bright brow castle chief close cross dark death deep Douglas dread drew face fair fear fell field fight fire gave give glance grace green grey hall hand hath head hear heard heart heaven held hill hold hour King knew knight lady lake land light living look Lord lost loud maid marked Marmion meet minstrel morning mountain ne'er never noble o'er once pass pride proud rest rock rose round Saint scarce scene seemed seen side soon sought soul sound spear spoke steed stood strain stream sword tale tell thee thine thou thought tide Till tower true turned Twas voice wake warrior wave wild wind wood youth
Popular passages
Page 52 - BREATHES there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, 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,...
Page 149 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
Page 10 - When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white ; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower ; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die ; When distant Tweed is heard to rave, And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave; Then go — but go alone the while — Then view St David's ruined pile ; And, home returning, soothly...
Page 148 - Eske River where ford there was none: But ere he alighted at Netherby gate The bride had consented, the gallant came late: For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
Page 60 - And glimmered all the dead men's mail. Blazed battlement and pinnet high, Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair — So still they blaze, when fate is nigh The lordly line of high St Clair.
Page 188 - While many a broken band Disordered through her currents dash, To gain the Scottish land ; To town and tower, to down and dale, To tell red Flodden's dismal tale, And raise the universal wail. Tradition, legend, tune, and song Shall many an age that wail prolong ; Still from the sire the son shall hear Of the stern strife and carnage drear Of Flodden's fatal field. Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear And broken was her shield ! xxxv.
Page 175 - Part we in friendship from your land, And, noble earl, receive my hand." But Douglas round him drew his cloak, Folded his arms, and thus he spoke: "My manors, halls, and bowers shall still Be open, at my sovereign's will, To each one whom he lists, howe'er Unmeet to be the owner's peer. My castles are my king's alone, From turret to foundation-stone; The hand of Douglas is his own, And never shall in friendly grasp The hand of such as Marmion clasp.
Page 18 - In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed ; In war, he mounts the warrior's steed ; In halls, in gay attire is seen ; In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above ; For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
Page 175 - I tell thee, thou'rt defied ! And if thou said'st I am not peer To any lord in Scotland here, Lowland or Highland, far or near, Lord Angus, thou hast lied...
Page xxiii - Stuarts' throne ; The bigots of the iron time Had called his harmless art a crime. A wandering Harper, scorned and poor, He begged his bread from door to door ; ' And tuned, to please a peasant's ear, The harp, a king had loved to hear.