Works, Том 24

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Houghton Mifflin, 1923
 

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Стр. 414 - A fire devoureth before them; and behind them a flame burneth: the land is as the garden of Eden before them, and behind them a desolate wilderness; yea, and nothing shall escape them.
Стр. 154 - — he whistled shrill, And he was answered from the hill ; Wild as the scream of the curlew, From crag to crag the signal flew. Instant, through copse and heath, arose Bonnets and spears and bended bows ! On right, on left, above, below, Sprung up at once the lurking foe...
Стр. 38 - 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.
Стр. 185 - 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?
Стр. 184 - I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied;— Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide! And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine: There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young...
Стр. 241 - The ponderous grate behind him rung: To pass there was such scanty room, The b'ars, descending, razed his plume. The steed along the drawbridge flies, Just as it trembled on the rise; Not lighter does the swallow skim Along the smooth lake's level brim; And when Lord Marmion reached his band, He halts and turns with clenched hand, And shout of loud defiance pours, And shook his gauntlet at the towers. "Horse! horse! " the Douglas cried, "and chase!
Стр. 60 - Long may the tree, in his banner that glances, Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line! Heaven send it happy dew, Earth lend it sap anew, Gayly to bourgeon, and broadly to grow, While every Highland glen Sends our shout back agen, Roderigh Vich Alpine, dhu, ho! ieroe!
Стр. 38 - 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.
Стр. 95 - Wise without learning, plain and good, And sprung of Scotland's gentler blood ; Whose eye in age, quick, clear, and keen, Showed what in youth its glance had been ; Whose doom discording neighbours sought, Content with equity unbought ; To him the venerable Priest, Our frequent and familiar guest, Whose life and manners well could paint Alike the student and the saint...
Стр. 22 - And Dryden, in immortal strain, Had raised the Table Round again,* But that a ribald King and Court Bade him toil on, to make them sport ; Demanded for their niggard pay, Fit for their souls, a looser lay, Licentious satire, song, and play ; The world defrauded of the high design, Profaned the God-given strength, and marr'd the lofty line.

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