The poetical works of Walter Scott, Volume 10 |
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ancient appear approaching archers Argentine arms army band banner Barbour battle bear beneath body bore broken Bruce called Carrick castle charge close command dark death deep Donald Caird's Douglas Duci Hibernicorum Earl Edward English fair fame Farewell fear fell field fierce fight fire force gather gave give glance ground hand hath head heart hill horse host Isabel Isles John King King Robert knight land late leave light Lord Lorn lost maid mass Monarch mountain never noble Note o'er once pass plain poor prince Randolph ranks rest Robert rode Scotland Scottish seen shore side Sigillum slain soon sound spear stands stone strong Sultaun sword tell thee thou thought tide till took tower warriors wave wild
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Page 179 - The bride at the altar ; Leave the deer, leave the steer, Leave nets and barges: Come with your fighting gear, Broadswords and targes. Come as the winds come, when Forests are rended, Come as the waves come, when Navies are stranded: Faster come, faster come. Faster and faster, Chief, vassal, page and groom, Tenant and master.
Page 177 - Come away, come away, Hark to the summons! Come in your war- array, Gentles and commons. Come from deep glen, and From mountain so rocky; The war-pipe and pennon Are at Inverlochy. Come every hill-plaid, and True heart that wears one, Come every steel blade, and Strong hand that bears one.
Page 171 - Now let this wilfu' grief be done, And dry that cheek so pale; Young Frank is chief of Errington And lord of Langley-dale; His step is first in peaceful ha', His sword in battle keen" — But aye she loot the tears down fa
Page 171 - WHY weep ye by the tide, ladie? Why weep ye by the tide? I'll wed ye to my youngest son, And ye sail be his bride: And ye sail be his bride, ladie, Sae comely to be seen" — But aye she loot the tears down fa
Page 182 - the lake's clear breast May barter for the eagle's nest; The Awe's fierce stream may backward turn, Ben-Cruaichan fall, and crush Kilchurn; Our kilted clans, when blood is high, Before their foes may turn and fly; But I, were all these marvels done, Would never wed the Earlie's son.
Page 175 - O, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows, It calls but the warders that guard thy repose ; Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red, Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.
Page 28 - O ! many a shaft, at random sent, Finds mark the archer little meant ! And many a word, at random spoken, , May soothe or wound a heart that's broken!
Page 201 - And coldly mark the holy fane Of Melrose rise in ruin'd pride. The quiet lake, the balmy air, The hill, the stream, the tower, the tree, — Are they still such as once they were, Or is the dreary change in me ? Alas, the warp'd and broken board, How can it bear the painter's dye ! The harp of strain'd and tuneless chord, How to the minstrel's skill reply ! To aching eyes each landscape lowers, To feverish pulse each gale blows chill ; And Araby's or Eden's bowers Were barren as this moorland hill.
Page 175 - O, hush thee, my babie, the time soon will come, When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum ; Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.
Page 200 - THE sun upon the Weirdlaw hill, In Ettrick's vale, is sinking sweet ; The westland wind is hush and still, The lake lies sleeping at my feet. Yet not the landscape to mine eye Bears those bright hues that once it bore ; Though evening, with her richest dye, Flames o'er the hills of Ettrick's shore. With listless look along the plain, I see Tweed's silver current glide, And coldly mark the holy fane Of Melrose rise in ruin'd pride.