The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Bart.., Том 7

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Robert Cadell; & Whittaker & Company London
 

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Стр. 256 - So faithful in love and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. He stayed not for brake and he stopped not for stone, He swam the Eske river where ford there was none, But ere he alighted at Netherby gate The bride had consented, the gallant...
Стр. 258 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : There was racing, and chasing, on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar ? XIII.
Стр. 324 - Douglas' head. And first I tell thee, haughty peer, He, who does England's message here, Although the meanest in her State, May well, proud Angus, be thy mate. And, Douglas...
Стр. 327 - Marmion reach'd his band, He halts, and turns with clenched hand, And shout of loud defiance pours, And shook his gauntlet at the towers. " Horse ! horse ! " the Douglas cried, " and chase ! " But soon he rein'd his fury's pace : " A royal messenger he came, Though most unworthy of the name.
Стр. 351 - 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 ! — Charge, Chester, charge ! On, Stanley, on ! " Were the last words of Marmion.
Стр. 256 - 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. 323 - He had safe conduct for his band, Beneath the royal seal and hand, And Douglas gave a guide : The ancient Earl, with. stately grace, Would Clara on her palfrey place, And whispered, in an under tone, " Let the hawk stoop, his prey is flown.
Стр. 341 - 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 mountain-throne King James did rushing come.
Стр. 12 - And think'st thou, Scott! by vain conceit perchance, On public taste to foist thy stale romance ? } Though Murray with his Miller may combine To yield thy muse just half-a-crown per line ? No ! when the sons of song descend to trade, Their bays are sear, their former laurels fade. Let such forego the poet's sacred name, Who rack their brains for lucre, not for fame ; Low may they sink to merited contempt, And scorn remunerate the mean attempt! Such be their meed, such still the just reward Of prostituted...
Стр. 342 - At length the freshening western blast Aside the shroud of battle cast; And first the ridge of mingled spears Above the brightening cloud appears; And in the smoke the pennons flew, As in the storm the white sea-mew. Then marked they, dashing broad and far, The broken billows of the war, And plumed crests of chieftains brave Floating like foam upon the wave...

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