The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott

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W.P. Nimmo, 1877 - 665 pages
 

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Page 14 - 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...
Page 152 - YOUNG Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best; And save his good broadsword he weapons 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 23 - 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 628 - 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." Waken, lords and ladies gay, To the greenwood haste away ; We can show you where he lies, Fleet of foot and tall of size ; We can show the marks he made When 'gainst the oak his antlers frayed; You shall see him brought to bay;
Page 56 - 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...
Page 210 - Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done; While our slumbrous spells assail ye, Dream not, with the rising sun, Bugles here shall sound reveille. Sleep! the deer is in his den; Sleep! thy hounds are by thee lying: Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen How thy gallant steed lay dying. Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done; Think not of the rising sun, For at dawning to assail ye Here no bugles sound reveille.
Page 190 - The war, that for a space did fail, Now trebly thundering swelled the gale, And — "Stanley!" was the cry; — A light on Marmion's visage spread, And fired his glazing eye: With dying hand, above his head He shook the fragment of his blade, And shouted " Victory ! — Charge, Chester, charge ! On, Stanley, on ! " Were the last words of Marmion.
Page 209 - No rude sound shall reach* thine ear, Armour's clang, or war-steed champing, Trump nor pibroch summon here Mustering clan or squadron tramping. Yet the lark's shrill fife may come At the daybreak from the fallow, And the bittern sound his drum, Booming from the sedgy shallow. Ruder sounds shall none be near, Guards nor warders challenge here, Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing, Shouting clans or squadrons stamping.
Page 188 - Fitz-Eustace, to Lord Surrey hie ; Tunstall lies dead upon the field, His life-blood stains the spotless shield : Edmund is down: — my life is reft; The Admiral alone is left. Let Stanley charge with spur of fire, — With Chester charge, and Lancashire, Full upon Scotland's central host, Or victory and England 's lost. — Must I bid twice? — hence, varlets ! fly! Leave Marmion here alone — to die.
Page 191 - Still from the sire the son shall hear Of the stern strife and carnage drear Of Flodden's fatal field. Where shivered was fair Scotland's spear And broken was her shield ! xxxv.

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