The Lay of the Last Minstrel, a PoemJoseph Cushing; and E. Sargeant, New York, 1811 - 232 pages |
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Page 5
... manners was more the object of the author , than a combined and regular narrative , the plan of the ancient Metrical Romance was adopted , which allows greater latitude , in this respect , than would be consistent with the dignity of a ...
... manners was more the object of the author , than a combined and regular narrative , the plan of the ancient Metrical Romance was adopted , which allows greater latitude , in this respect , than would be consistent with the dignity of a ...
Page 7
... manners gone ; A stranger filled the Stuart's throne ; The bigots of the iron time Had called bis 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 ...
... manners gone ; A stranger filled the Stuart's throne ; The bigots of the iron time Had called bis 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 ...
Page 72
... manner wild . The attendants to the Ladye told , Some fairy , sure , had changed the child , That wont to be so free and bold . Then wrathful was the noble dame ; She blushed blood - red for very shame : - " Hence ; ere the clan his ...
... manner wild . The attendants to the Ladye told , Some fairy , sure , had changed the child , That wont to be so free and bold . Then wrathful was the noble dame ; She blushed blood - red for very shame : - " Hence ; ere the clan his ...
Page 85
... manners , long since changed and gone ; Of chiefs , who under their gray stone So long had slept , that fickle Fame Had blotted from her rolls their name , And twined round some new minion's head The fading wreath for which they bled ...
... manners , long since changed and gone ; Of chiefs , who under their gray stone So long had slept , that fickle Fame Had blotted from her rolls their name , And twined round some new minion's head The fading wreath for which they bled ...
Page 111
... head.— A fortnight thence , in Inglewood , Stout Conrad , cold , and drenched in blood , His bosom gored with many a wound , Was by a woodman's lyme - dog found ; Unknown the manner of his death , Gone was his Canto 6. LAST MINSTREL . 111.
... head.— A fortnight thence , in Inglewood , Stout Conrad , cold , and drenched in blood , His bosom gored with many a wound , Was by a woodman's lyme - dog found ; Unknown the manner of his death , Gone was his Canto 6. LAST MINSTREL . 111.
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Common terms and phrases
ancient arms band bard baron Beattisons beneath betwixt blaze blood blood-hound Border Branksome Branksome hall Branksome's Buccleuch bugle called CANTO castle chapel chief Clair clan courser crest cross Cumberland dæmons Dame dead Douglas dread Duke Earl Earl of Angus Earl of Orkney Eildon Hills English Eskdale Ettricke Ettricke Forest fair on Carlisle Fawdon fight fire Froissart gallant hall hand harp head heard heart highnes horse James Jedburgh king Kirkwall knight Ladye laird of Buccleuch lances lands Liddesdale lord Dacre loud Melrose Melrose Abbey Michael Scott MINSTREL moss-trooper Musgrave ne'er noble NOTE o'er ride rode round Saint sayd Scotland Scots Scottish Scottish Border shulde Sir William slain song spear steed stone stood sun shines fair sword Teviot's thee theyme theyre Thomas Musgrave thou Tinlinn tower twixt Virgilius Walter warden warrior ween wild William of Deloraine word wound
Popular passages
Page 121 - 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 102 - 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!
Page 1 - 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.
Page 39 - In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed; In war, he mounts the warrior's steed; In halls, in gay attire is seen; In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above ; For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
Page 89 - 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.
Page 102 - ... 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.
Page 114 - O listen, listen, ladies gay ! No haughty feat of arms I tell ; Soft is the note, and sad the lay, That mourns the lovely Rosabelle. — " Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew ! And, gentle ladye, deign to stay ! Rest thee in Castle Ravensheuch, Nor tempt the stormy firth to-day. " The blackening wave is edged with white : To inch* and rock the sea-mews fly; The fishers have heard the Water-Sprite, Whose screams forebode...
Page 26 - The moon on the east oriel shone Through slender shafts of shapely stone, By foliaged tracery combined : Thou wouldst 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.
Page 2 - Duchess marked his weary pace, His timid mien, and reverend face, And bade her page the menials tell That they should tend the old man well: For she had known adversity, Though born in such a high degree; In pride of power, in beauty's bloom, Had wept o'er Monmouth's bloody tomb!
Page 81 - 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 balm distil; Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, And oaks, in deeper groan, reply; And rivers teach their rushing wave To murmur dirges...