The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Bart: Complete in One Volume. With Introductions and Notes..Robert Cadell, St. Andrew Square., 1841 - Всего страниц: 823 |
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Стр. 17
... blood - hound , As he rouses him up from his lair ; 1 A mountain on the Border of England , above Jedburgh . 2 " How lovely and exhilarating is the fresh cool morning landscape which relieves the mind after the horrors of the spell ...
... blood - hound , As he rouses him up from his lair ; 1 A mountain on the Border of England , above Jedburgh . 2 " How lovely and exhilarating is the fresh cool morning landscape which relieves the mind after the horrors of the spell ...
Стр. 20
... blood well'd freshly from the wound . 1 Magical delusion . 3 See Appendix , Note 2 M. A shepherd's hut . 4 Ibid . Note 2 N. XII . As he repass'd the outer court , He spied the fair young child at sport : He thought to train him to the ...
... blood well'd freshly from the wound . 1 Magical delusion . 3 See Appendix , Note 2 M. A shepherd's hut . 4 Ibid . Note 2 N. XII . As he repass'd the outer court , He spied the fair young child at sport : He thought to train him to the ...
Стр. 21
... blood - hound manfully , And held his little bat on high ; So fierce he struck , the dog , afraid , At cautious distance hoarsely bay'd , But still in act to spring ; When dash'd an archer through the glade , And when he saw the hound ...
... blood - hound manfully , And held his little bat on high ; So fierce he struck , the dog , afraid , At cautious distance hoarsely bay'd , But still in act to spring ; When dash'd an archer through the glade , And when he saw the hound ...
Стр. 26
... blood mix'd with the rill , The Galliard's - Haugh men call it still . The Scotts have scatter'd the Beattison clan , In Eskdale they left but one landed man . The valley of Eske , from the mouth to the source , Was lost and won for ...
... blood mix'd with the rill , The Galliard's - Haugh men call it still . The Scotts have scatter'd the Beattison clan , In Eskdale they left but one landed man . The valley of Eske , from the mouth to the source , Was lost and won for ...
Стр. 28
... blood . Knighthood he took of Douglas ' sword , 7 When English blood swell'd Ancram's ford ; " And but Lord Dacre's steed was wight , And bare him ably in the flight , Himself had seen him dubb'd a knight . 1 An asylum for outlaws . 2 ...
... blood . Knighthood he took of Douglas ' sword , 7 When English blood swell'd Ancram's ford ; " And but Lord Dacre's steed was wight , And bare him ably in the flight , Himself had seen him dubb'd a knight . 1 An asylum for outlaws . 2 ...
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ancient Appendix arms ballad band bard Barnard Castle battle battle of Methven beneath blood bold Border Branksome brave breast brow Bruce called CANTO castle chief clan courser dark death Deloraine Douglas dread Earl Earl of Angus English Ettrick Forest fair falchion fear fell fight fire gallant gave grace hall hand harp hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Highland hill honour horse Isles James John King knight Lady lake land light Loch Katrine Lorn loud maid Marmion minstrel Minstrelsy morning Mortham moss-troopers mountain ne'er noble Norham Note o'er pass'd poem poetry pride Risingham rock Roderick Rokeby romance round rude Saint scene Scotland Scott Scottish Scottish Border seem'd Sir Walter Scott slain song sought sound spear stanza steed stood sword tale tell thee thine thou tide tower Twas warriors wave ween wild
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Стр. 198 - He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font reappearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest.
Стр. 121 - One touch to her hand and one word in her ear, When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung! ' She is won ! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur ; They'll have fleet steeds that follow,
Стр. 14 - 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...
Стр. 184 - Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking; Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more ; Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
Стр. 177 - The stag at eve had drunk his fill, Where danced the moon on Monan's rill, And deep his midnight lair had made In lone Glenartney's hazel shade...
Стр. 36 - 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. 184 - No rude sound shall reach* thine ear, Armour's clang, or war-steed champing, Trump nor pibroch summon here Mustering clan or squadron tramping. Yet the lark's shrill fife may come At the daybreak from the fallow, And the bittern sound his drum, Booming from the sedgy shallow. Ruder sounds shall none be near, Guards nor warders challenge here, Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing, Shouting clans or squadrons stamping.
Стр. 138 - And sudden, as he spoke, From the sharp ridges of the hill, All downward to the banks of Till, Was wreathed in sable smoke. Volumed and vast, and rolling far, The cloud enveloped Scotland's war As down the hill they broke ; Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone, Announced their march ; their tread alone, At times one warning trumpet blown, At times a stifled hum, Told England, from his...
Стр. 140 - 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. 129 - And carols roar*d with blithesome din ; If unmelodious was the song, It was a hearty note, and strong. Who lists may in their mumming see Traces of ancient mystery ; White shirts supplied the masquerade, And smutted cheeks the visors made ; But...