The Complete Poetical Works of Sir Walter ScottThomas Y. Crowell, 1894 - 770 pages |
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Page xiv
... hours a day five or six days a week during about six months in the year , and the salary was £ 1,300 . This position Scott filled for twenty - five years , not slighting any of the " really base drudgery " of the work , or giving to its ...
... hours a day five or six days a week during about six months in the year , and the salary was £ 1,300 . This position Scott filled for twenty - five years , not slighting any of the " really base drudgery " of the work , or giving to its ...
Page xxvii
... Hour with Thee Wildrake's Toast Mottoes Motto 46 FROM THE TWO DROVERS . " Motto · 527 527 HALIDON HILL : A Dramatic Sketch from Scottish History MACDUFF'S CROSS • 544 567 527 THE DOOM OF DEVORGOIL - 573 AUCHINDRANE ; or , the Ayrshire ...
... Hour with Thee Wildrake's Toast Mottoes Motto 46 FROM THE TWO DROVERS . " Motto · 527 527 HALIDON HILL : A Dramatic Sketch from Scottish History MACDUFF'S CROSS • 544 567 527 THE DOOM OF DEVORGOIL - 573 AUCHINDRANE ; or , the Ayrshire ...
Page 3
... hours of my life , it furnished an additional reason for my reluctance again to encounter the severe course of study indispensable to success in the juridical profession . On the other hand , my father , whose feelings might have been ...
... hours of my life , it furnished an additional reason for my reluctance again to encounter the severe course of study indispensable to success in the juridical profession . On the other hand , my father , whose feelings might have been ...
Page 5
... but were you , reverend sir , to repeat your best sermon in this drawing - room , I could not tell you half an hour afterwards what you had been speaking about . " Luid- land . I was of some use to him INTRODUCTION . 5.
... but were you , reverend sir , to repeat your best sermon in this drawing - room , I could not tell you half an hour afterwards what you had been speaking about . " Luid- land . I was of some use to him INTRODUCTION . 5.
Page 13
... hour is come , And to - night he shall watch with thee , To win the treasure of the tomb ; For this will be St. Michael's night , And , though stars be dim , the moon is bright ; The Unicorn Head was the crest of the Carrs , or Kerrs ...
... hour is come , And to - night he shall watch with thee , To win the treasure of the tomb ; For this will be St. Michael's night , And , though stars be dim , the moon is bright ; The Unicorn Head was the crest of the Carrs , or Kerrs ...
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Common terms and phrases
Abbess ancient arms band battle beneath blood blood-hound bold Border bower brand Branksome Branksome Hall Branksome's brave breast bright broadsword brow CANTO castle Chief clan Clare courser crest Dame dark deep Deloraine Douglas dread e'er Ellen Eskdale Ettrick Forest fair falchion fear fell Fitz-Eustace gallant glance glen grace Græme gray hall hand harp hast hear heard heart heaven hill holy King knight Lady Ladye lake lance land Liddesdale Lindisfarne Loch Katrine lonely look'd Lord Marmion loud maid mark'd merry Mickledale Minstrel moss-trooper mountain ne'er noble Norham o'er pass'd poem pride proud rest ride rode Roderick rose round rude rung Saint Saint Hilda scarce Scotland Scotland's Scott Scottish seem'd show'd sire song sound spear spoke squire steed stood sword tale tell thee thine thou thought tide toil tower Twas warrior wave WAVERLEY NOVELS ween wild
Popular passages
Page 97 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : There was racing, and chasing, on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar ? XIII.
Page 96 - I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied : Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide ; And now am I come, with this lost love of mine To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar...
Page 40 - O 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!
Page 96 - 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...
Page 131 - 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 115 - King James did rushing come. — Scarce could they hear, or see their foes, Until at weapon-point they close. — They close, in clouds of smoke and dust, With sword-sway, and with lance's thrust ; And such a yell was there, Of sudden and portentous birth, As if men fought upon the earth, And...
Page 128 - With head upraised, and look intent, And eye and ear attentive bent, And locks flung back, and lips apart, Like monument of Grecian art, In listening mood, she seemed to stand, The guardian Naiad of the strand.
Page 34 - 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 round his grave.
Page 9 - 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. The last of all the bards was he. Who sung of Border chivalry; For, well-a-day ! their date was fled, His tuneful brethren all were dead ; And he, neglected and oppressed, Wished to be with them, and at rest...
Page 73 - Glared through the window's rusty bars, And ever, by the winter hearth, Old tales I heard of woe or mirth, Of lovers' slights, of ladies' charms, Of witches' spells, of warriors' arms; Of patriot battles, won of old By Wallace wight and Bruce the bold ; Of later fields of feud and fight, When, pouring from their Highland height, The Scottish clans, in headlong sway, Had swept the scarlet ranks away. While...