The Lay of the Last Minstrel: A PoemLongman, 1806 - Всего страниц: 332 |
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Стр. 35
... wave was crested with tawny foam , Like the mane of a chesnut steed . In vain ! no torrent , deep or broad , Might bar the bold moss - trooper's road . XXIX . At the first plunge the horse sunk low , And the water broke o'er the saddle ...
... wave was crested with tawny foam , Like the mane of a chesnut steed . In vain ! no torrent , deep or broad , Might bar the bold moss - trooper's road . XXIX . At the first plunge the horse sunk low , And the water broke o'er the saddle ...
Стр. 52
... wave , The bells would ring in Notre Dame ! Some of his skill he taught to me ; And , Warrior , I could say to thee The words , that cleft Eildon hills in three , And bridled the Tweed with a curb of stone : But to speak them were a ...
... wave , The bells would ring in Notre Dame ! Some of his skill he taught to me ; And , Warrior , I could say to thee The words , that cleft Eildon hills in three , And bridled the Tweed with a curb of stone : But to speak them were a ...
Стр. 53
... moon was bright ; And I dug his chamber among the dead , When the floor of the chancel was stained red , That his patron's Cross might over him wave , And scare the fiends from the Wizard's grave . XVI . " It was a night of woe and 53.
... moon was bright ; And I dug his chamber among the dead , When the floor of the chancel was stained red , That his patron's Cross might over him wave , And scare the fiends from the Wizard's grave . XVI . " It was a night of woe and 53.
Стр. 67
... courser pricks his ears , As if a distant noise he hears . The Dwarf waves his long lean arm on high , And signs to the lovers to part and fly ; No time was then to vow or sigh . Fair Margaret , through the hazel grove , Flew like 67.
... courser pricks his ears , As if a distant noise he hears . The Dwarf waves his long lean arm on high , And signs to the lovers to part and fly ; No time was then to vow or sigh . Fair Margaret , through the hazel grove , Flew like 67.
Стр. 101
... blaze no more ; No longer steel - clad warriors ride -Along thy wild and willowed shore ; Where'er thou wind'st by dale or hill , All , all is peaceful , all is still , As if thy waves , since Time was born , THE ...
... blaze no more ; No longer steel - clad warriors ride -Along thy wild and willowed shore ; Where'er thou wind'st by dale or hill , All , all is peaceful , all is still , As if thy waves , since Time was born , THE ...
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ancient arms band bard Baron beneath betwixt Bewcastle blaze blood blood-hound Border Branksome Branksome Hall Branksome's Buccleuch bugle called CANTO castle Cessford chapel chief clan courser crest cross Cumberland dæmons Dame dead death Douglas dread Duke Earl Earl of Angus Eildon hills English Ettricke Ettricke Forest fair on Carlisle Fawdon fight hall hand harp Hawick head heard highnes horse Howard iron James Jedburgh king Kirkwall knight Ladye laird lance lands LAST MINSTREL Liddesdale Lord Dacre Melrose Michael MINSTREL moss-trooper Musgrave Naworth Castle ne'er noble o'er ride rode Roslin round rung sayd Scotland Scots Scottish Scottish Border shew shulde Sir William slain song spear St Clair steed stone stood sun shines fair sword Teviot's Teviotdale thee theyme theyre Thomas Musgrave thou Tinlinn tomb tower Twas tyme Virgilius Walter Scott warden warrior ween wild William of Deloraine wound
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Стр. 169 - 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, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And,...
Стр. 191 - Blazed battlement and pinnet high, Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair — So still they blaze; when fate is nigh The lordly line of high St. Clair.
Стр. 11 - Seemed to have known a better day ; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by an orphan boy. The last of all the bards was he, Who sung of Border chivalry ; For, well-a-day ! their date was fled, His tuneful brethren all were dead ; And he, neglected and oppressed, Wished to be with them, and at rest.
Стр. 19 - Ten of them were sheathed in steel, With belted sword, and spur on heel : They quitted not their harness bright, Neither by day, nor yet by night...
Стр. 15 - Where she, with all her ladies, sate, Perchance he wished his boon denied: For, when to tune his harp he tried, His trembling hand had lost the ease Which marks security to please; And scenes, long past, of joy and pain, Came wildering o'er his aged brain — He tried to tune his harp in vain.
Стр. 13 - Newark's stately tower Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower: The Minstrel gazed with wishful eye — No humbler resting-place was nigh: With hesitating step at last, The embattled portal arch he pass'd, Whose ponderous grate and massy bar Had oft roll'd back the tide of war, But never closed the iron door Against the desolate and poor.
Стр. 200 - THAT day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay ? How shall he meet that dreadful day...
Стр. 136 - Not that, in sooth, o'er mortal urn Those things inanimate can mourn ; But that the stream, the wood, the gale, Is vocal with the plaintive wail Of those, who, else forgotten long, Lived in the poet's faithful song, And, with the poet's parting breath, Whose memory feels a second death.
Стр. 19 - They quitted not their harness bright Neither by day nor yet by night • They lay down to rest, With corslet laced, Pillowed on buckler cold and hard ; They carved at the meal With gloves of steel, And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred.
Стр. 191 - Tis not because the ring they ride, And Lindesay at the ring rides well, But that my sire the wine will chide, If 'tis not filled by Rosabelle.