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Стр. 38 - 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! — Scarce were the piteous accents said, When, with the Baron's casque, the maid To the nigh streamlet ran; Forgot were hatred, wrongs, and fears; The plaintive voice alone she hears, Sees but the dying man.
Стр. 198 - THAT those lips had language! Life has passed With me but roughly since I heard thee last. Those lips are thine, — thy own sweet smile I see, The same that oft in childhood solaced me; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, "Grieve not, my child; chase all thy fears away!
Стр. 34 - I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied : Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide ; And now am I come, with this lost love of mine To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar...
Стр. 324 - Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free ; They touch our country, and their shackles fall.
Стр. 34 - Eske river where ford there was none ; But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late ; For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
Стр. 37 - Is Wilton there ?" — With that, straight up the hill there rode Two horsemen drenched with gore, And in their arms, a helpless load, A wounded knight they bore.
Стр. 39 - The war, that for a space did fail, Now trebly thundering swelled the gale, And— STANLEY ! was the cry. A light on Marmion's visage spread, And fired his glazing eye ; With dying hand, above his head He shook the fragment of his blade, And shouted ' ' Victory l— Charge, Chester, charge ! on, Stanley, on ! ' Were the last words of Marmion.
Стр. 37 - The border slogan rent the sky ! A Home ! a Gordon ! was the cry : Loud were the clanging blows ; Advanced, — forced back, — now low, now high, The pennon sunk and rose ; As bends the bark's mast in the gale, When rent are rigging, shrouds, and sail, It wavered 'mid the foes.