Sir Walter Scott

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Harper, 1901 - Всего страниц: 177

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Стр. 101 - That young lady had a talent for describing the involvements and feelings and characters of ordinary life, which is to me the most wonderful I ever met with. The Big Bow-wow strain I can do myself like any now going ; but the exquisite touch, which renders ordinary commonplace things and characters interesting, from the truth of the description and the sentiment, is denied to me.
Стр. 22 - Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife ! To all the sensual world proclaim, One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name.
Стр. 39 - Minstrelsy than even in The Lay of the Last Minstrel, Marmion, and The Lady of the Lake taken together.
Стр. 12 - Of witches' spells, of warriors' arms; Of patriot battles won of old By Wallace wight and Bruce the bold ; Of later fields of feud and fight, When pouring from the Highland height, The Scottish clans, in headlong sway, Had swept the scarlet ranks away.
Стр. 57 - And far beneath their summer hill, Stray sadly by Glenkinnon's rill: The shepherd shifts his mantle's fold, And wraps him closer from the cold; His dogs no merry circles wheel, But, shivering, follow at his heel; A cowering glance they often cast, As deeper moans the gathering blast...
Стр. 55 - At once there rose so wild a yell Within that dark and narrow dell, As all the fiends, from heaven that fell, Had peal'd the banner-cry of hell ! Forth from the pass in tumult driven, Like chaff before the wind of heaven, The archery appear; For life!
Стр. 55 - Are maddening in the rear. Onward they drive, in dreadful race, Pursuers and pursued; Before that tide of flight and chase, How shall it keep its rooted place, The spearmen's twilight wood?— 'Down, down,' cried Mar, 'your lances down!
Стр. 47 - 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.
Стр. 50 - It may be pertinacity," said he, at length; " but to my eye these grey hills and all this wild border country have beauties peculiar to themselves. I like the very nakedness of the land ; it has something bold, and stern, and solitary about it. When I have been for some time in the rich scenery about Edinburgh, which is like ornamented garden land, I begin to wish myself back again among my own honest grey hills; and if I did not see the heather at least once a year, I think I should die!

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