The Poetical Works of Walter Scott, Esq, Svazek 1James Eastburn & Company, 1819 |
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Výsledky 1-5 z 40
Strana 15
... arms had stood , When Mathouse burn to Melrose ran All purple with their blood ; And well she knew , her mother dread , Before lord Cranstoun she should wed , - Would see her on her dying bed . XI . Of noble race the Ladye came ; Her ...
... arms had stood , When Mathouse burn to Melrose ran All purple with their blood ; And well she knew , her mother dread , Before lord Cranstoun she should wed , - Would see her on her dying bed . XI . Of noble race the Ladye came ; Her ...
Strana 19
... arms grown old , Share in his frolic gambols bore , Albeit their hearts , of rugged mould , Were stubborn as the steel they wore . * Foray , a predatory inroad . For the gray warriors prophesied , How the brave boy Canto I. THE LAST ...
... arms grown old , Share in his frolic gambols bore , Albeit their hearts , of rugged mould , Were stubborn as the steel they wore . * Foray , a predatory inroad . For the gray warriors prophesied , How the brave boy Canto I. THE LAST ...
Strana 35
... arms appear , And their iron clang sounds strange to my ear . XIII . " In these far climes , it was my lot To meet the wonderous Michael Scott ; A wizard of such dreaded fame , That when , in Salamanca's cave , Him listed his magic wand ...
... arms appear , And their iron clang sounds strange to my ear . XIII . " In these far climes , it was my lot To meet the wonderous Michael Scott ; A wizard of such dreaded fame , That when , in Salamanca's cave , Him listed his magic wand ...
Strana 44
... arms he tossed , And often muttered , " Lost ! lost ! lost ! " He was waspish , arch , and litherlie , But well Lord Cranstoun served he ; And he of his service was full fain ; For once he had been ta'en or slain , An ' it had not been ...
... arms he tossed , And often muttered , " Lost ! lost ! lost ! " He was waspish , arch , and litherlie , But well Lord Cranstoun served he ; And he of his service was full fain ; For once he had been ta'en or slain , An ' it had not been ...
Strana 45
... 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 Canto II . THE LAST MINSTREL . 45.
... 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 Canto II . THE LAST MINSTREL . 45.
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ancient arms band banner Bard baron beneath betwixt Bewcastle blaze blood blood-hound Border bower Branksome Branksome hall Branksome's brave Buccleuch bugle called CANTO castle chapel Chief of Kintail Clair clan courser Cranstoun crest Cumberland dæmons Dame dark dead death Douglas dread Earl Earl of Angus Eildon Hills English Ettricke Ettricke Forest fair on Carlisle fame Fawdon fight forest gallant hall hand harp head hear heard heart highnes hill horse Howard Jedburgh king Kintail Kirkwall knight Ladye laird lance lands LAST MINSTREL loud maid Melrose Michael MINSTREL moss-trooper Musgrave Naworth Castle ne'er noble Note o'er ride rode round Saint Cloud Scotland Scots Scottish Scottish Border shulde Sir William slain song spear steed stone stood sword tale Teviot's Teviotdale thee theyre Thomas Musgrave thou Tinlinn tower Twas Virgilius Walter Scott warrior wave wild William of Deloraine wound
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 121 - 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, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
Strana 142 - 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...
Strana 105 - True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven : It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly ; It liveth not in fierce desire, With dead desire it doth not die ; It is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, In body and in soul can bind.
Strana 121 - 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...
Strana 29 - 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 ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die...
Strana 34 - The moon on the east oriel shone, Through slender shafts of shapely stone, By foliaged tracery combined ; Thou would'st have thought some fairy's hand, "Twixt poplars straight, the osier wand, In many a freakish knot, had twined ; Then framed a spell, when the work was done, And changed the willow wreaths to stone.
Strana 7 - Stuarts' throne; The bigots of the iron time Had called his harmless art a crime. A wandering Harper, scorned and poor, He begged his bread from door to door, And tuned, to please a peasant's ear, The harp a king had loved to hear.
Strana 277 - And lovers' ears in hearing ; And love, in life's extremity, Can lend an hour of cheering. Disease had been in Mary's bower And slow decay from mourning, Though now she sits on Neidpath's tower To watch her Love's returning.
Strana 282 - 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, "Waken, lords and ladies gay!
Strana 122 - 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 band, That knits me to thy rugged strand!