Poetical works. With a biogr. and critical memoir by F.T. Palgrave |
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Page xiii
... rose with the storm . He lifted his eyes and hands . There's the mast gone , says he ; crash it goes ! —they will all perish ! After his agitation , he turns to me : That too melancholy ; I had better read you something more amusing . I ...
... rose with the storm . He lifted his eyes and hands . There's the mast gone , says he ; crash it goes ! —they will all perish ! After his agitation , he turns to me : That too melancholy ; I had better read you something more amusing . I ...
Page 16
... rose , and fair Tweed ran , Like some tall rock with lichens grey , Seem'd dimly huge , the dark Abbaye . When Hawick he pass'd , had curfew rung , Now midnight lauds were in Melrose sung . The sound , upon the fitful gale , In solemn ...
... rose , and fair Tweed ran , Like some tall rock with lichens grey , Seem'd dimly huge , the dark Abbaye . When Hawick he pass'd , had curfew rung , Now midnight lauds were in Melrose sung . The sound , upon the fitful gale , In solemn ...
Page 18
... rose high aloof On pillars lofty and light and small : The key - stone , that lock'd each ribbed aisle , * Was a fleur - de - lys , or a quatre - feuille ; The corbells were carved grotesque and grim ; And the pillars , with cluster'd ...
... rose high aloof On pillars lofty and light and small : The key - stone , that lock'd each ribbed aisle , * Was a fleur - de - lys , or a quatre - feuille ; The corbells were carved grotesque and grim ; And the pillars , with cluster'd ...
Page 19
... rose , Bat I stood by his bed ere evening close . The words may not again be said , That he spoke to me , on death - bed laid ; They would rend this Abbaye's massy nave , And pile it in heaps above his grave . XV . " I swore to bury his ...
... rose , Bat I stood by his bed ere evening close . The words may not again be said , That he spoke to me , on death - bed laid ; They would rend this Abbaye's massy nave , And pile it in heaps above his grave . XV . " I swore to bury his ...
Page 21
... rose . And lovelier than the rose so red , Yet paler than the violet pale , She early left her sleepless bed , The fairest maid of Teviotdale . XXVI . Why does fair Margaret so early awake , And don her kirtle so hastilie ; And the ...
... rose . And lovelier than the rose so red , Yet paler than the violet pale , She early left her sleepless bed , The fairest maid of Teviotdale . XXVI . Why does fair Margaret so early awake , And don her kirtle so hastilie ; And the ...
Common terms and phrases
ancient arms band battle bear beneath blood bold bound brave brow Bruce called castle chief close dark death deep Douglas dread Earl English fair faith fame fear fell field fight fire gave give glance grace hall hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hill hold horse hour King knight lady lake land leave light living look Lord loud maid Marmion meet minstrel morning mountain ne'er never noble o'er once pass pride rest rock rose round Saint scene Scott Scottish seem'd seen side song soon sound spear steed stood strain stream strong sword tale tell thee thine thou thought tide Till took tower true voice wake warrior wave wild wind wood
Popular passages
Page 103 - The bride kiss'd the goblet, the knight took it up, He quaff 'd off the wine and he threw down the cup; She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh, With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar, — " Now tread we a measure !
Page 103 - O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best ; And save his good broad-sword he weapon had none, He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
Page 104 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar ? XIII.
Page 445 - God before her moved, An awful guide in smoke and flame, By day, along the astonished lands, The cloudy pillar glided slow; By night, Arabia's crimsoned sands Returned the fiery column's glow. There rose the choral hymn of praise, And trump and timbrel answered keen; And Zion's...
Page 49 - 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...
Page 42 - 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 concentered all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly...
Page 118 - Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, And shook his very frame for ire, And — "This to me!" he said; "An 'twere not for thy hoary beard, Such hand as Marmion's had not spared To cleave the Douglas' head! And first I tell thee, haughty peer, He who does England's message here, Although the meanest in her state, May well, proud Angus, be thy mate! And, Douglas, more I tell thee here...
Page 103 - He staid not for brake, and he stopp'd not for stone, He swam the Eske river where ford there was none; But ere he alighted at Netherby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late: For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. So boldly he...
Page 136 - In all her length far winding lay, With promontory, creek, and bay, And islands that, empurpled bright, Floated amid the livelier light, And mountains, that like giants stand, To sentinel enchanted land.
Page 96 - When sated with the martial show That peopled all the plain below, The wandering eye could o'er it go, And mark the distant city glow With gloomy splendour red ; For on the smoke-wreaths, huge and slow, That round her sable turrets flow, The morning beams were shed, And tinged them with a lustre proud, Like that which streaks a thunder-cloud. Such dusky grandeur clothed the height, Where the huge Castle holds its state, And all the steep slope down, Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky, Piled deep...