The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Bart. in Twelve Volumes: With All His Introductions and Notes, Various Readings and the Editor's Notes |
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Page 37
... lost the ease , Which marks security to please ; And scenes , long past , of joy and pain , Came wildering o'er his aged brain- He tried to tune his harp in vain ! The pitying Duchess praised its chime , And gave him heart , and gave ...
... lost the ease , Which marks security to please ; And scenes , long past , of joy and pain , Came wildering o'er his aged brain- He tried to tune his harp in vain ! The pitying Duchess praised its chime , And gave him heart , and gave ...
Page 39
... lost ; Each blank , in 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 . 39.
... lost ; Each blank , in 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 . 39.
Page 47
... latter case , the person of the sage never after throws any shade ; and those , who have thus lost their shadow , always prove the best magicians . Till to her bidding she could bow The viewless forms Canto 1 . 47 THE LAST MINSTREL .
... latter case , the person of the sage never after throws any shade ; and those , who have thus lost their shadow , always prove the best magicians . Till to her bidding she could bow The viewless forms Canto 1 . 47 THE LAST MINSTREL .
Page 76
... Lost ! lost ! lost ! " And , like tennis - ball by racket toss'd , A leap , of thirty feet and three , Made from the gorse this elfin shape , Distorted like some dwarfish ape , And lighted at Lord Cranstoun's knee . Lord Cranstoun was ...
... Lost ! lost ! lost ! " And , like tennis - ball by racket toss'd , A leap , of thirty feet and three , Made from the gorse this elfin shape , Distorted like some dwarfish ape , And lighted at Lord Cranstoun's knee . Lord Cranstoun was ...
Page 77
... Lost ! lost ! lost ! " He was waspish , arch , and litherlie , ' But well Lord Cranstoun served he : [ The idea of the imp domesticating himself with the first person he met , and subjecting himself to that one's authority , is ...
... Lost ! lost ! lost ! " He was waspish , arch , and litherlie , ' But well Lord Cranstoun served he : [ The idea of the imp domesticating himself with the first person he met , and subjecting himself to that one's authority , is ...
Common terms and phrases
agen ancient Angus Appendix arms band bard battle beneath blood blood-hound bold Border bower brand Brantome brave breast bright broadsword brow CANTO castle chief Chieftain clan courser crest Dame dark deep Deloraine Douglas dread e'er Earl Earl of Angus Ettrick Forest fair falchion fear fell fire Flodden gallant glance glen grace Græme grey hall hand harp hath head hear heard heart heaven Highland hill holy James King King Arthur King's knight Lady Ladye lake lance land Liddesdale light Lindisfarne Loch Katrine lone Lord Marmion loud maid maiden mark'd merry Minstrel morning mountain ne'er noble Norham o'er pass'd pride rock Roderick rose round rude Saint Saint Hilda Saxon scarce Scotland Scottish seem'd show'd sire song sought sound spear steed stood sword tale Tantallon thee thine thou tide tower Twas warrior wave ween wild
Popular passages
Page 216 - So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; And the bride-maidens whispered, " 'Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.
Page 35 - THE way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old; His withered cheek, and tresses gray, Seemed to have known a better day ; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by an orphan boy.
Page 117 - He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font, reappearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest.
Page 50 - Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking ; Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more : Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
Page 162 - 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. By Yarrow's stream still let me stray, Though none should guide my feeble way ; Still feel the breeze down Ettrick break, Although it chill my withered cheek ; Still lay my head...
Page 215 - 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.
Page 296 - ... snow, Though charging knights like whirlwinds go, Though bill-men ply the ghastly blow, Unbroken was the ring; The stubborn spearmen still made good Their dark impenetrable wood, Each stepping where his comrade stood, The instant that he fell. No thought was there of dastard flight; Link'd in the serried phalanx tight, Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, As fearlessly and well; Till utter darkness closed her wing O'er their thin host and wounded king.
Page 22 - The stag at eve had drunk his fill, Where danced the moon on Monan's rill, And deep his midnight lair had made In lone Glenartney's hazel shade...
Page 77 - Long may the tree, in his banner that glances, Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line ! Heaven send it happy dew, Earth lend it sap anew, Gayly to bourgeon, and broadly to grow, While every Highland glen Sends our shout back agen, " Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe...
Page 275 - Lord Marmion turned — well was his need — And dashed the rowels in his steed, Like arrow through the archway sprung, The ponderous grate behind him rung; To pass there was such scanty room, The bars descending razed his plume.