Poetical Works of Sir Walter ScottMacmillan, 1884 - Всего страниц: 559 |
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Стр. 12
... sword , and spur on heel : They quitted not their harness bright , Neither by day nor yet by night : They lay down to rest , With corslet laced , Pillow'd on buckler cold and hard ; They carv'd at the meal With gloves of steel , And ...
... sword , and spur on heel : They quitted not their harness bright , Neither by day nor yet by night : They lay down to rest , With corslet laced , Pillow'd on buckler cold and hard ; They carv'd at the meal With gloves of steel , And ...
Стр. 30
... sword Before their father's band ; A braver knight than Harden's lord Ne'er belted on a brand . X. Scotts of Eskdale , a stalwart band , Came trooping down the Todshaw- hill ; By the sword they won their land , And by the sword they ...
... sword Before their father's band ; A braver knight than Harden's lord Ne'er belted on a brand . X. Scotts of Eskdale , a stalwart band , Came trooping down the Todshaw- hill ; By the sword they won their land , And by the sword they ...
Стр. 32
... sword , They knew no country , own'd no lord : They were not arm'd like England's sons , But bore the levin - darting guns ; Buff coats , all frounced and ' broider'd o'er , And morsing - horns * and scarfs they wore ; Each better knee ...
... sword , They knew no country , own'd no lord : They were not arm'd like England's sons , But bore the levin - darting guns ; Buff coats , all frounced and ' broider'd o'er , And morsing - horns * and scarfs they wore ; Each better knee ...
Стр. 33
... swords ; But yet they may not tamely see , All through the Western Wardenry , Your law - contemning kinsmen ride , And ... sword , When English blood swell'd Ancram's ford ; And but Lord Dacre's steed was wight , And bare him ably in the ...
... swords ; But yet they may not tamely see , All through the Western Wardenry , Your law - contemning kinsmen ride , And ... sword , When English blood swell'd Ancram's ford ; And but Lord Dacre's steed was wight , And bare him ably in the ...
Стр. 39
... sword he will maintain , So help him God , and his good cause ! " 66 XX . SCOTTISH HERALD . ' Here standeth William of Deloraine , Good knight and true , of noble strain , Who sayeth , that foul treason's stain , Since he bore arms , ne ...
... sword he will maintain , So help him God , and his good cause ! " 66 XX . SCOTTISH HERALD . ' Here standeth William of Deloraine , Good knight and true , of noble strain , Who sayeth , that foul treason's stain , Since he bore arms , ne ...
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Abbotsford ancient arms band banner battle beneath blood blood-hound bold bower brand Branksome Hall brave breast bright broadsword brow Bruce castle clan courser dark death deep Deloraine Douglas dread Earl English Ettrick Forest fair falchion fame fear fell fierce fight fire gallant gave glance glen grace grey hall hand harp hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Highland hill holy isle King King Arthur knight lady lake land Liddesdale light Loch Katrine lone Lord Marmion loud maid maiden mark'd Marmion minstrel morning Mortham Moss-troopers mountain ne'er noble o'er pale pass'd pibroch poem pride Risingham rock Roderick Rokeby round rude Saint Saxon scene Scotland Scott Scottish seem'd show'd silvan sire song sought sound spear steed stern stood sword tale tell thee thine thou tide tower turn'd Twas wake warrior wave ween wild wind
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Стр. 103 - So stately his form, and so lovely her face. That never a hall such a galliard did grace: While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; And the bride-maidens whispered, "Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.
Стр. 42 - BREATHES there the man with soul so dead Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go mark him well ; For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim ; Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch concentered all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly...
Стр. 104 - 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. 17 - 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...
Стр. 146 - And near, and nearer as they row'd, Distinct the martial ditty flow'd. XIX. Dont Hail to the Chief who in triumph advances ! Honour'd and bless'd be the ever-green Pine ! Long may the tree, in his banner that glances, Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line ! Heaven send it happy dew, Earth lend it sap anew, Gayly to bourgeon, and broadly to grow, While every Highland glen Sends our shout back agen, " Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe...
Стр. 457 - Proud Maisie is in the wood, Walking so early; Sweet Robin sits on the bush, Singing so rarely. " 'Tell me, thou bonny bird, When shall I marry me?' 'When six braw gentlemen Kirkward shall carry ye.' * * * " 'Who makes the bridal bed, Birdie, say truly?' 'The gray-headed sexton That delves the grave duly.' * * * "The glow-worm o'er grave and stone Shall light thee steady; The owl from the steeple sing, 'Welcome, proud lady.
Стр. 478 - Waken, lords and ladies gay, The mist has left the mountain gray, Springlets in the dawn are steaming, Diamonds on the brake are gleaming, And foresters have busy been To track the buck in thicket green ; Now we come to chant our lay
Стр. 42 - 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 baud, That knits me to thy rugged strand...
Стр. 123 - Leave Marmion here alone — to die." They parted, and alone he lay ; Clare drew her from the sight away, Till pain wrung forth a lowly moan, And half he murmur'd, — " Is there none, Of all my halls have nurst, Page, squire, or groom, one cup to bring Of blessed water from the spring, To slake my dying thirst !
Стр. 301 - But here, — above, around, below, On mountain or in glen, Nor tree, nor shrub, nor plant, nor flower, Nor aught of vegetative power. The weary eye may ken. For all is rocks at random thrown, Black waves, bare crags, and banks of stone, As if were here denied The summer sun, the spring's sweet dew, That clothe with many a varied hue The bleakest mountain-side.