The Poetical Works of Sir Walter ScottW. P. Nimmo, 1877 - 665 pages |
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Page 5
... song were lost : Each blank , faithless memory void , The poet's glowing thought supplied ; And , while his harp responsive rung , Twas thus the LATEST MINSTREL sung . THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL . CANTO FIRST . INTRODUCTION . 5.
... song were lost : Each blank , faithless memory void , The poet's glowing thought supplied ; And , while his harp responsive rung , Twas thus the LATEST MINSTREL sung . THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL . CANTO FIRST . INTRODUCTION . 5.
Page 13
... twas silence all ; He meetly stabled his 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 ...
... twas silence all ; He meetly stabled his 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 ...
Page 19
... twas said to me . " " ΧΧΠΙ . Now , hie thee hence , " the Father said , " And , when we are on death - bed laid , O may our dear Ladye , and sweet St John , Forgive our souls for the deed we have done ! " - The monk returned him to his ...
... twas said to me . " " ΧΧΠΙ . Now , hie thee hence , " the Father said , " And , when we are on death - bed laid , O may our dear Ladye , and sweet St John , Forgive our souls for the deed we have done ! " - The monk returned him to his ...
Page 21
... Twas said , when the Baron a - hunting rode Through Reedsdale's glens , but rarely trod , He heard a voice cry , " Lost ! lost ! lost ! " And , like tennis - ball by racket tossed , A leap , of thirty feet and three , Made from the ...
... Twas said , when the Baron a - hunting rode Through Reedsdale's glens , but rarely trod , He heard a voice cry , " Lost ! lost ! lost ! " And , like tennis - ball by racket tossed , A leap , of thirty feet and three , Made from the ...
Page 29
... Twas near the time of curfew bell ; The air was mild , the wind was calm , The stream was smooth , the dew was balm ; E'en the rude watchman , on the tower , Enjoyed and blessed the lovely hour . Far more fair Margaret loved and blessed ...
... Twas near the time of curfew bell ; The air was mild , the wind was calm , The stream was smooth , the dew was balm ; E'en the rude watchman , on the tower , Enjoyed and blessed the lovely hour . Far more fair Margaret loved and blessed ...
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Common terms and phrases
agen Argentine arms bade band banner bard battle beneath Bertram blood bold bower brand Branksome Hall brave breast bright Brignal brow Bruce castle cheer courser crest dark deep Deloraine Douglas dread drew e'er Edinburgh Annual Ettricke Forest fair falchion fame fate fear fell fierce fight gallant glance glen grace gray hall hand harp hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill honoured King knight lady lance land Liddesdale light Lindisfarn lonely look Lord Marmion Lorn loud maid maiden minstrel Monarch Mortham mountain ne'er noble Norham o'er pale passed pennons pibroch pride proud Redmond Risingham rock Roderick Rokeby's Ronald round rude rung Saint Saxon scarce Scotland Scottish shore sire smile song sought sound spear spoke steed stern stood sword tale tell thee thine thou tide toil tower train Twas twixt voice wake warrior wave ween wild Wilfrid wind youth
Popular passages
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.