The Lay of the Last Minstrel: A PoemLongman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, Paternoster-row, and A. Constable and Company Edinburgh, 1805 - Počet stran: 332 |
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Výsledky 1-5 z 16
Strana 23
... steed ; Spare not to spur , nor stint to ride , Until thou come to fair Tweedside ; And in Melrose's holy pile Seek thou the Monk of St Mary's isle : Greet the father well from me ; Say , that the fated hour is come , And to night he ...
... steed ; Spare not to spur , nor stint to ride , Until thou come to fair Tweedside ; And in Melrose's holy pile Seek thou the Monk of St Mary's isle : Greet the father well from me ; Say , that the fated hour is come , And to night he ...
Strana 24
... steed , Who drinks of the Teviot clear ; Ere break of day , " the warrior ' gan say , 66 Again will I be here : And safer by none may thy errand be done , Than , noble dame , by me ; Letter nor line know I never a one , Wer't my neck ...
... steed , Who drinks of the Teviot clear ; Ere break of day , " the warrior ' gan say , 66 Again will I be here : And safer by none may thy errand be done , Than , noble dame , by me ; Letter nor line know I never a one , Wer't my neck ...
Strana 26
... steed ; Drew saddle - girth and corslet - band , And loosened in the sheath his brand . On Minto - crags the moon - beams glint , Where Barnhill hewed his bed of flint ; Who flung his outlawed limbs to rest , Where falcons hang their ...
... steed ; Drew saddle - girth and corslet - band , And loosened in the sheath his brand . On Minto - crags the moon - beams glint , Where Barnhill hewed his bed of flint ; Who flung his outlawed limbs to rest , Where falcons hang their ...
Strana 27
... 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 - bow ; Above the foaming tide , I ween , Scarce half 27.
... 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 - bow ; Above the foaming tide , I ween , Scarce half 27.
Strana 30
... steed in stall , And sought the convent's lonely wall . HERE paused the harp ; and with its swell The Master's fire and courage fell : Dejectedly , and low , he bowed , And , gazing timid on the crowd , He seemed to seek , in every eye ...
... steed in stall , And sought the convent's lonely wall . HERE paused the harp ; and with its swell The Master's fire and courage fell : Dejectedly , and low , he bowed , And , gazing timid on the crowd , He seemed to seek , in every eye ...
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ancient arms band bard Baron beneath betwixt blaze blood blood-hound Border bower Branksome Branksome Hall Branksome's brave broken lance Buccleuch called CANTO castle Cessford chapel chief clan courser cross Cumberland dæmons Dame dead devyll Douglas dread Duke Earl Earl of Angus Eildon hills English Ettricke Forest fair on Carlisle fight hall hand harp Hawick heard highnes horse Howard James Jedburgh king Kirkwall knight Ladye laird lance lands LAST MINSTREL Liddesdale Lord Dacre Margaret Melrose Michael MINSTREL moss-trooper Musgrave Naworth Castle ne'er never noble o'er ride rode Roslin round rung sayd Scot Scotland 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 XXIII
Oblíbené pasáže
Strana 190 - 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? When...
Strana 7 - 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...
Strana 160 - 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 137 - 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 180 - 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 fill'd by Rosabelle...
Strana 3 - 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.
Strana 125 - CALL it not vain : — they do not err, Who say, that when the Poet dies, Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, And celebrates his obsequies : Who say, tall cliff, and cavern lone, For the departed Bard make moan ; That mountains weep in crystal rill ; That flowers in tears of bahn distil; Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, And oaks, in deeper groan, reply ; And rivers teach their rushing wave To murmur dirges round his grave.
Strana 182 - Blazed battlement and pinnet high, Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair — So still they blaze, when fate is nigh The lordly line of high Saint Clair. There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold Lie buried within that proud chapelle...
Strana 44 - 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...
Strana 160 - O 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 ! Still, as I view each well-known scene, Think what is now, and what hath been, Seems as, to me, of all bereft, Sole friends thy woods and streams were left ; And thus I love them better still, Even in extremity of ill.