The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott: With a Memoir of the Author, Том 5Little, Brown, 1857 |
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The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott: With a Memoir of the Author, Том 5 Walter Scott Полный просмотр - 1857 |
The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott: With a Memoir of the Author, Том 5 Walter Scott Полный просмотр - 1865 |
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Abbotsford Allaster ancient Angus Angus Og Appendix archers Argentine Argyleshire arms army Arran Artornish Bannockburn Barbour bark battle battle of Bannockburn battle of Methven beneath bold bore brother brow called CANTO Carrick castle chief Chieftain commanded Comyn dark Douglas Duci Hibernicorum Earl Earl of Ross Edith Edward Edward Bruce England English fair fame fear fell fierce hand hath heart Heaven hill Isabel island Isle of Arran Isles John King Robert Kirkpatrick knight lake land Loch Lord Ronald Maid of Lorn minstrel monarch mountain mycht Nigel Bruce noble Note o'er poem Quhen Randolph Robert Bruce rock round rude sail scene Schyr Scotland Scott Scottish Seatoun seem'd seid shore Sigillum Abbatis slain spear stone sword tale tell thai thaim thair thar thee thine thou tide tower Turnberry wake Wallace wave Western Isles wild wind wyst
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Стр. 119 - Where, as to shame the temples deck'd By skill of earthly architect, Nature herself, it seem'd, would raise A Minster to her Maker's praise ! Not for a meaner use ascend Her columns, or her arches bend ; Nor of a theme less solemn tells That mighty surge that ebbs and swells, And still, between each awful pause, From the high vault an answer draws, In varied tone prolonged and high, That mocks the organ's melody.
Стр. 83 - He who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow ; He who surpasses or subdues mankind, Must look down on the hate of those below. Though high above the sun of glory glow, And far beneath the earth and ocean spread, Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow Contending tempests on his naked head, And thus reward the toils which to those summits led.
Стр. 20 - Whose name appals the fiercest of his crew, And tints each swarthy cheek with sallower hue; Still sways their souls with that commanding art That dazzles, leads, yet chills the vulgar heart. What is that spell, that thus his lawless train Confess and envy, yet oppose in vain? What should it be, that thus their faith can bind? The power of Thought - the magic of the Mind!
Стр. 11 - Beyond the shadow of the ship I watched the water-snakes ; They moved in tracks of shining white ; And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire — Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam ; and every track Was a flash of golden fire.
Стр. 117 - Merrily, merrily goes the bark On a breeze from the northward free, So shoots through the morning sky the lark, Or the swan through the summer sea. The shores of Mull on the eastward lay, And Ulva dark and Colonsay, And all the group of islets gay That guard famed Staffa round.
Стр. 206 - And bristled o'er with bills and spears, With plumes and pennons waving fair. Was that bright battle-front ! for there Rode England's King and peers : And who, that saw that monarch ride, His kingdom battled by his side, Could then his direful doom foretell...
Стр. 80 - Hath rent a strange and shattered 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 Benmore green mosses grow, And...
Стр. 80 - 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.
Стр. 121 - Quench'd is his lamp of varied lore, That loved the light of song to pour ; A distant and a deadly shore Has LEYDEN'S cold remains ! XII.
Стр. 208 - The partridge may the falcon mock, If that slight palfrey stand the shock ; But, swerving from the knight's career, Just as they met, Bruce shunn'd the spear. Onward the baffled warrior bore His course — but soon his course was o'er ! High in his stirrups stood the king, And gave his battle-axe the swing, Right on De Boune, the whiles he pass'd, Fell that stern dint, the first, the last.