Life of Sir Walter Scott, Baronet

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W. Oliphant & Company, 1870 - Всего страниц: 384

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Стр. 303 - ... triple height : Spirits of power, assembled there, complain For kindred power departing from their sight ; While Tweed, best pleased in chanting a blithe strain, Saddens his voice again, and yet again. Lift up your hearts, ye mourners ! for the might Of the whole world's good wishes with him goes ; Blessings and prayers in nobler retinue Than sceptred king or laurelled conqueror knows, Follow this wondrous potentate. Be true, Ye winds of ocean, and the midland sea, Wafting your charge to soft...
Стр. 32 - He was makin' himsell a' the time," said Mr Shortreed; " but he didna ken maybe what he was about till years had passed : At first he thought o' little, I dare say, but the queerness and the fun.
Стр. 123 - Hath rent a strange and shatter'd way Through the rude bosom of the hill, And that each naked precipice, Sable ravine, and dark abyss, Tells of the outrage still. The wildest glen, but this, can show Some touch of Nature's genial glow ; On high...
Стр. 11 - Duncan, who had not patience to have a sober chat interrupted by my shouting forth this ditty. Methinks I now see his tall thin emaciated figure, his legs cased in clasped gambadoes, and his face of a length that would have rivalled the Knight of La Mancha's, and hear him exclaiming, " One may as well speak in the mouth of a cannon as where that child is.
Стр. 374 - When Israel, of the Lord beloved, Out from the land of bondage came, Her fathers' God before her moved, An awful guide in smoke and flame. By day, along the astonished lands, The cloudy pillar glided slow ; By night, Arabia's crimsoned sands Returned the fiery column's glow.
Стр. 154 - The sun upon the Weirdlaw Hill, In Ettrick's vale, is sinking sweet ; The westland wind is hush and still — The lake lies sleeping at my feet. Yet not the landscape to mine eye Bears those bright hues that once it bore ; • Though evening, with her richest dye, Flames o'er the hills of Ettrick's shore. " With listless look along the plain I see Tweed's silver current glide, i And coldly mark the holy fane Of Melrose rise in ruin'd pride.
Стр. 2 - In [April 1758] my father married Anne Rutherford, eldest daughter of Dr John Rutherford, professor of medicine in the University of Edinburgh. He was one of...
Стр. 83 - tis no laughing matter; little by little, whatever your wishes may be, you will destroy and undermine, until nothing of what makes Scotland Scotland shall remain.
Стр. 342 - It can be said of him, When he departed, he took a Man's life along with him. No sounder piece of British manhood was put together in that eighteenth century of Time. Alas, his fine Scotch face, with its shaggy honesty, sagacity and goodness, when we saw it latterly on the Edinburgh streets, was all worn with care, the joy all fled from it;—ploughed deep with labour and sorrow. We shall never forget it; we shall never see it again. Adieu,' Sir Walter, pride of all Scotchmen, take our proud and...
Стр. 12 - This pencil take (she said), whose colours clear Richly paint the vernal year ; Thine too these golden keys, immortal Boy ! This can unlock the gates of joy ; Of horror that, and thrilling fears, Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears.

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