The poetical works of sir Walter Scott. Illustr. by F. Gilbert |
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Стр. xvii
... sword , and spur on heel : They quitted not their harness bright , Neither by day , nor yet by night : They lay down to rest With corslet laced , Pillowed on buckler cold and hard : They carved at the meal With gloves of steel , And ...
... sword , and spur on heel : They quitted not their harness bright , Neither by day , nor yet by night : They lay down to rest With corslet laced , Pillowed on buckler cold and hard : They carved at the meal With gloves of steel , And ...
Стр. 15
... sword Before their father's band : A braver knight than Harden's lord Ne'er belted on a brand . X. Whitslade the Hawk , and Headshaw came , And warriors more than I may name ; From Yarrow - cleuch to Hindhaugh - swair , From ...
... sword Before their father's band : A braver knight than Harden's lord Ne'er belted on a brand . X. Whitslade the Hawk , and Headshaw came , And warriors more than I may name ; From Yarrow - cleuch to Hindhaugh - swair , From ...
Стр. 16
... sword , They knew no country , owned no lord : They were not armed like England's sons , But bore the levin - darting guns ; Buff coats , all frounced and ' broidered o'er , And morsing - horns * and scarfs they wore ; Each better knee ...
... sword , They knew no country , owned no lord : They were not armed like England's sons , But bore the levin - darting guns ; Buff coats , all frounced and ' broidered o'er , And morsing - horns * and scarfs they wore ; Each better knee ...
Стр. 23
... Sword . He took it on the Page's saye , Hunthill had driven these steeds away . Then Howard , Home , and Douglas rose , The kindling discord to compose : Stern Rutherford right little said , But bit his glove , and shook his head.— A ...
... Sword . He took it on the Page's saye , Hunthill had driven these steeds away . Then Howard , Home , and Douglas rose , The kindling discord to compose : Stern Rutherford right little said , But bit his glove , and shook his head.— A ...
Стр. 34
... sword . -St . XXIII , p . 16 . The dignity of knighthood , according to the original institution , had this ... swords , and Sweet Milk was killed on the spot . A thorn - tree marks the scene of the murder , which is still called Sweet ...
... sword . -St . XXIII , p . 16 . The dignity of knighthood , according to the original institution , had this ... swords , and Sweet Milk was killed on the spot . A thorn - tree marks the scene of the murder , which is still called Sweet ...
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ancient Argentine arms band banner bard Barnard Castle battle beneath blood bold bower brand Branksome Hall brave breast bright broadsword brow Bruce called CANTO castle chase cheer chief Chieftain clan courser dark death deep Deloraine Douglas dread drew Earl Edinburgh Annual Edward Bruce English Ettricke Forest fair falcon crest fate fear fell fight fire gallant glance glen grace hall hand harp hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Highland hill holy honour horse hound isle King knight lady land light look Lorn loud maid Marmion minstrel monarch Mortham moss-trooper mountain ne'er noble o'er pale pass pride Risingham rock Roderick Ronald round rude rung Saint Saint Hilda Saxon Scotland Scottish side song sought soul sound spear steed stern stood sword tale tell thee thine thou tide tower train Twas wake warrior wave ween wild wind
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Стр. 18 - 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. 63 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou!
Стр. 22 - 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.
Стр. 64 - O'er their thin host and wounded King. Then skilful Surrey's sage commands Led back from strife his shattered bands ; And from the charge they drew, As mountain-waves, from wasted lands, Sweep back to ocean blue. Then did their loss his foemen know ; Their King, their Lords, their mightiest low, They melted from the field, as snow, When streams are swoln and south winds blow, Dissolves in silent dew.
Стр. 242 - How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber? When the wind waved his garment, how oft didst thou start ? How many long days and long weeks didst thou number, Ere he faded before thee, the friend of thy heart ? And oh ! was it meet that — no requiem read o'er him, No mother to weep, and no friend to deplore him, And thou, little guardian, alone stretched before him — Unhonoured the pilgrim from life should depart...
Стр. 64 - But yet, though thick the shafts as snow, Though charging knights like whirlwinds go, Though billmen ply the ghastly blow, Unbroken was the ring; The stubborn spearmen still made good Their dark impenetrable wood, Each stepping where his comrade stood The instant that he fell. No thought was there of dastard flight; Linked in the serried phalanx tight, Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, As fearlessly and well...
Стр. 8 - 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. 228 - Harp and carp along with me ; And if ye dare to kiss my lips, Sure of your bodie I will be." "Betide me weal, betide me woe, That weird shall never danton me." Syne he has kissed her rosy lips. All underneath the Eildon Tree.
Стр. 19 - 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.
Стр. 80 - The sportive toil, which, short and light, Had dyed her glowing hue so bright, Served too in hastier swell to show Short glimpses of a breast of snow : What though no rule of courtly grace To measured mood had trained her pace, — A foot more light, a step more true, Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew; E'en the slight harebell raised its head, Elastic from her airy tread...