The Poetical Works of Walter Scott, Esq, Том 5James Eastburn & Company, 1818 |
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Стр. 13
... hour to hour the castle bell , Or listen to the owlet's cry , Or the sad breeze that whistles by , Or catch , by fits , the tuneless rhyme With which the warder cheats the time , And envying think , how , when the sun Bids the poor ...
... hour to hour the castle bell , Or listen to the owlet's cry , Or the sad breeze that whistles by , Or catch , by fits , the tuneless rhyme With which the warder cheats the time , And envying think , how , when the sun Bids the poor ...
Стр. 17
... hour , The weeds of vice without their flower . And yet the soil in which they grew , Had it been tamed when life was new , Had depth and vigour to bring forth The hardier fruits of virtuous worth . Not that , e'en then , his heart had ...
... hour , The weeds of vice without their flower . And yet the soil in which they grew , Had it been tamed when life was new , Had depth and vigour to bring forth The hardier fruits of virtuous worth . Not that , e'en then , his heart had ...
Стр. 31
... Hour after hour he loved to pore On Shakspeare's rich and varied lore , But turned from martial scenes and light , From Falstaff's feast and Percy's fight , To ponder Jaques's moral strain , And muse with Hamlet , wise in vain ; And ...
... Hour after hour he loved to pore On Shakspeare's rich and varied lore , But turned from martial scenes and light , From Falstaff's feast and Percy's fight , To ponder Jaques's moral strain , And muse with Hamlet , wise in vain ; And ...
Стр. 35
... hour , When her lamp lightens in the tower ; ' Tis something yet , if , as she past , Her shade is o'er the lattice cast , " What is my life , my hope ? " he said ; " Alas ! a transitory shade . " XXX . Thus wore his life , though ...
... hour , When her lamp lightens in the tower ; ' Tis something yet , if , as she past , Her shade is o'er the lattice cast , " What is my life , my hope ? " he said ; " Alas ! a transitory shade . " XXX . Thus wore his life , though ...
Стр. 38
... hour must wear away , Ere the east kindle into day , And , hark ! to waste that weary hour , He tries the minstrel's magic power . XXXIII . SONG . TO THE MOON . Hail to thy cold and clouded beam , Pale pilgrim of the troubled sky ! Hail ...
... hour must wear away , Ere the east kindle into day , And , hark ! to waste that weary hour , He tries the minstrel's magic power . XXXIII . SONG . TO THE MOON . Hail to thy cold and clouded beam , Pale pilgrim of the troubled sky ! Hail ...
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Allen-a-Dale ap John ap arms bade band barbed horse Barnard Barnard Castle battle Bertram blood bold brand brave breast Brignal brow called CANTO castle chase cheek cliff command comrades dæmon dark daugh death Denzil desperate dread E'en earl earl of Newcastle Eglistone English Erin's fair fear fell fierce fight fire gallant gave glade glance gray Greta hall of Cynddylan hand harp hast hath hear heard heart heaven heir honour horse hour Irish king knew Lond look lord loud Lunedale maid Matilda minstrel Mortham ne'er nigh night Note o'er O'Neale Oswald pale pride Ralph Rokeby Risingham river Greta Rokeby's Roundheads seemed side Sir Thomas Fairfax sire smile song sought soul steed stood sword tale Tanist Tanistry Tees tell thee thine thou tower train turned Twas twine wild Wilfrid wont wood Wycliffe Wycliffe's Yafforth Young Redmond youth
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Стр. 88 - I'd rather rove with Edmund there, Than reign our English queen.' 'If, maiden, thou wouldst wend with me, To leave both tower and town, Thou first must guess what life lead we, That dwell by dale and down. And if thou canst that riddle read, As read full well you may, Then to the greenwood shalt thou speed, As blithe as Queen of May.
Стр. 90 - I'm with my comrades met, Beneath the greenwood bough, What once we were we all forget, Nor think what we are now. Chorus "Yet Brignall banks are fresh and fair, And Greta woods are green, And you may gather garlands there Would grace a summer queen.
Стр. 98 - A weary lot is thine ! To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, And press the rue for wine ! A lightsome eye, a soldier's mien, A feather of the blue, A doublet of the Lincoln green. — No more of me you knew, My love ! No more of me you knew. ' This morn is merry June, I trow, The rose is budding fain ; But she shall bloom in winter snow Ere we two meet again.' He turned his charger as he spake Upon the river shore, He gave his bridle-reins a shake, Said, ' Adieu for evermore, My love ! And adieu for...
Стр. 200 - And now, my race of terror run, Mine be the eve of tropic Sun ! No pale gradations quench his ray, No twilight dews his wrath allay ; With disk like battle-target red, He rushes to his burning bed, Dyes the wide wave with bloody light, Then sinks at once — and all is night.
Стр. 100 - XXX. Song. ALLEN-A-DALE. Allen-a-Dale has no fagot for burning, Allen-a-Dale has no furrow for turning. Allen-a-Dale has no fleece for the spinning, Yet Allen-a-Dale has red gold for the winning. Come, read me my riddle ! come, hearken my tale ! And tell me the craft of bold Allen-a-Dale. The Baron of Ravensworth prances in pride, And he views his domains upon Arkindale side. The mere for his net and the land for his game, The chase for the wild and the park for the tame : Yet the fish of the lake...
Стр. 38 - Woe to the youth whom Fancy gains, Winning from Reason's hand the reins, Pity and woe! for such a mind Is soft, contemplative, and kind; And woe to those who train such youth, And spare to press the rights of truth, The mind to strengthen and anneal While on the stithy glows the steel!
Стр. 269 - Of brushing up our youth, in letters, arms, Fair mien, discourses civil, exercise, And all the blazon of a gentleman ? Where can he learn to vault, to ride, to fence, To move his body...
Стр. 88 - tis at peep of light; His blast is heard at merry morn, And mine at dead of night.
Стр. 269 - Of breeding up our youth. in letters, arms. Fair mien, discourses, civil exercise, And all the blazon of a gentleman? Where can he learn to vault, to ride, to fence, To move his body gracefuller, to speak His language purer, or to tune his mind Or manners more to the harmony of nature, Than in these nurseries of nobility? Host. Ay, that was when the nursery's self was noble, And only virtue made it, not the market, That titles were not vended at the drum Or common outcry.
Стр. 101 - shows gallanter still ; 'Tis the blue vault of heaven, with its crescent so pale, And with all its bright spangles !