Sir Walter Scott, Том 6

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Macmillan, 1907 - Всего страниц: 182
This book tells the story of Sir Walter Scott.

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Стр. 12 - Glared through the window's rusty bars ; And ever, by the winter hearth, Old tales I heard of woe or mirth, Of lovers' slights, of ladies' charms, Of witches' spells, of warriors' arms ; Of patriot battles, won of old By Wallace wight and Bruce the bold ; Of later fields of feud and fight, When, pouring from their Highland height, The Scottish clans, in headlong sway, 200 Had swept the scarlet ranks away.
Стр. 39 - Minstrelsy than even in The Lay of the Last Minstrel, Marmion, and The Lady of the Lake taken together.
Стр. 55 - At once there rose so wild a yell Within that dark and narrow dell, As all the fiends, from heaven that fell, Had peal'd the banner-cry of hell! Forth from the pass in tumult driven, Like chaff before the wind of heaven, The archery appear: For life ! for life ! their flight they ply— And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry, And plaids and bonnets waving high, And broad-swords flashing to the sky, Are maddening in the rear.
Стр. 33 - The violet in her green-wood bower, Where birchen boughs with hazels mingle, May boast itself the fairest flower In glen, or copse, or forest dingle. Though fair her gems of azure hue, Beneath the dew-drop's weight reclining; I've seen an eye of lovelier blue, More sweet through wat'ry lustre shining.
Стр. 95 - I have been watching it — it fascinates my eye — it never stops— page after page is finished and thrown on that heap of MS., and still it goes on unwearied — and so it will be till candles are brought in, and God knows how long after that. It is the same every night — I can't stand a sight of it when I am not at my books.
Стр. 48 - In varying cadence, soft or strong, He swept the sounding chords along : The present scene, the future lot, His toils, his wants, were all forgot: Cold diffidence, and age's frost, In the full tide of song were lost...
Стр. 55 - And plaids and bonnets waving high, And broadswords flashing to the sky, Are maddening in the rear. Onward they drive, in dreadful race, Pursuers and pursued; Before that tide of flight and chase, How shall it keep its rooted place, The spearmen's twilight wood?— 'Down, down,' cried Mar, 'your lances down!
Стр. 11 - He has the most extraordinary genius of a boy I ever saw. He was reading a poem to his mother when I went in. I made him read on ; it was the description of a shipwreck. His passion rose with the storm. He lifted his eyes and hands. ' There's the mast gone,' says he; 'crash it goes! — they will all perish!' After his agitation, he turns to me. ' That is too melancholy,' says he, ' I had better read you something more amusing.
Стр. 15 - ... for the button, but it was not to be found. In his distress he looked down for it ; it was to be seen no more than to be felt. He stood confounded, and I took possession of his place ; nor did he ever recover it, or ever, I believe, suspect who was the author of his wrong. Often in after-life has the sight of him smote me as, I passed by him ; and often have I resolved to make him some reparation ; but it ended in good resolutions.
Стр. 177 - Death closes all: but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods. The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep...

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