The poetical works of sir Walter ScottA. & C. Black, 1882 - Всего страниц: 823 |
Результаты поиска по книге
Стр. 9
... brand . On Minto - crags the moon - beams glint Where Barnhill hewed his bed of flint ; Who flung his outlawed limbs to rest , Where falcons hang their giddy nest , ' Mid cliffs , from whence his cagle eye For many a league his prey ...
... brand . On Minto - crags the moon - beams glint Where Barnhill hewed his bed of flint ; Who flung his outlawed limbs to rest , Where falcons hang their giddy nest , ' Mid cliffs , from whence his cagle eye For many a league his prey ...
Стр. 27
... brand , And ruddy blushed the heaven : For a sheet of flame , from the turret high , Waved like a blood - flag on the sky , All flaring and uneven . And soon a score of fires , I ween , From height , and hill , and cliff , were seen ...
... brand , And ruddy blushed the heaven : For a sheet of flame , from the turret high , Waved like a blood - flag on the sky , All flaring and uneven . And soon a score of fires , I ween , From height , and hill , and cliff , were seen ...
Стр. 31
... brand . 10. Scotts of Eskdale , a stalwart band , Came trooping down the Todshaw hill ; By the sword they won their land , And by the sword they hold it still , Hearken , Ladye , to the tale , How thy sires won fair Eskdale.— Earl ...
... brand . 10. Scotts of Eskdale , a stalwart band , Came trooping down the Todshaw hill ; By the sword they won their land , And by the sword they hold it still , Hearken , Ladye , to the tale , How thy sires won fair Eskdale.— Earl ...
Стр. 36
... brand , And all yon mercenary band , Upon the bounds of fair Scotland ? My Ladye reads you swith return ; And , if but one poor straw you burn , Or do our towers so much molest As scare one swallow from her nest , -- St Mary ! but we'll ...
... brand , And all yon mercenary band , Upon the bounds of fair Scotland ? My Ladye reads you swith return ; And , if but one poor straw you burn , Or do our towers so much molest As scare one swallow from her nest , -- St Mary ! but we'll ...
Стр. 39
... brand to aid , when as the spear Should shiver in the course : But he , the jovial Harper , taught Me , yet a youth , how it was fought , In guise which now I say ; He knew each ordinance and clause Of black Lord Archibald's battle laws ...
... brand to aid , when as the spear Should shiver in the course : But he , the jovial Harper , taught Me , yet a youth , how it was fought , In guise which now I say ; He knew each ordinance and clause Of black Lord Archibald's battle laws ...
Другие издания - Просмотреть все
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
arms band battle bear beneath blood bold bore bound brand brave breast bright brow castle chief close cross dark dead death deep Douglas dread fair fear fell field fight fire Full gave give glance grace gray green hall hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill hold hour King knew knight lady land light living lonely look Lord loud maid mark Marmion meet minstrel morning mountain ne'er never noble o'er once passed pride rest rock rose round Saint scarce seemed seen shore side song soon sought sound spear spoke stay steed stood strain strange stream sword tale tell thee thine thou thought tide Till tower true turned Twas voice wake warrior wave wild wind wood youth
Популярные отрывки
Стр. 50 - 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...
Стр. 103 - HERON'S SONG. O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best, And save his good broadsword he weapons had none ; He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
Стр. 49 - 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...
Стр. 13 - The moon on the east oriel shone Through slender shafts of shapely stone, By foliaged tracery combined; Thou wouldst have thought some fairy's hand 'Twixt poplars straight the osier wand In many a freakish knot had twined; Then framed a spell, when the work was done, And changed the willow wreaths to stone.
Стр. 39 - 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 balm 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.
Стр. 2 - 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.
Стр. 103 - 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.
Стр. 1 - The way was long, the wind was cold, The minstrel was infirm and old; His withered cheek, and tresses gray, 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-aday! their date was fled; His tuneful brethren all were dead; And he, neglected and oppressed, Wished to be with them, and at rest.
Стр. 235 - That swathes, as with a purple shroud, Benledi's distant hill. 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...
Стр. 11 - 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...