The Complete Poetical Works of Sir Walter ScottThomas Y. Crowell, 1894 - 770 pages |
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Page ix
... proud of the fact that in his veins flowed the mingled blood of two hostile clans , the Scotts and the Haliburtons . He claimed no more than " gentle ' birth , but few men in Scotland were connected with so many " stocks of historical ...
... proud of the fact that in his veins flowed the mingled blood of two hostile clans , the Scotts and the Haliburtons . He claimed no more than " gentle ' birth , but few men in Scotland were connected with so many " stocks of historical ...
Page 21
... proud reply , Gave signal soon of dire debate . Their very coursers seem'd to know That each was other's mortal foe , And snorted fire , when wheel'd around , To give each knight his vantage - ground . * The crest of the Cranstouns , in ...
... proud reply , Gave signal soon of dire debate . Their very coursers seem'd to know That each was other's mortal foe , And snorted fire , when wheel'd around , To give each knight his vantage - ground . * The crest of the Cranstouns , in ...
Page 25
... proud , And issued forth his mandates loud : " On Penchryst glows a bale * of fire , And three are kindling on Priesthaugh- swire : Ride out , ride out , The foe to scout ! Mount , mount for Branksome , † every man . Thou , Todrig ...
... proud , And issued forth his mandates loud : " On Penchryst glows a bale * of fire , And three are kindling on Priesthaugh- swire : Ride out , ride out , The foe to scout ! Mount , mount for Branksome , † every man . Thou , Todrig ...
Page 27
... proud , Laugh'd to her friends among the crowd . He was of stature passing tall , But sparely form'd , and lean withal ; A batter'd morion on his brow ; A leather jack , as fence enow , On his broad shoulders loosely hung ; A border axe ...
... proud , Laugh'd to her friends among the crowd . He was of stature passing tall , But sparely form'd , and lean withal ; A batter'd morion on his brow ; A leather jack , as fence enow , On his broad shoulders loosely hung ; A border axe ...
Page 31
... ; Our slogan is their lyke - wake | dirge , Our moat , the grave where they shall lie . " Note of assault . Watching a corpse all night . XXVII . Proud she look'd round , applause to claim- CANTO IV . 31 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL .
... ; Our slogan is their lyke - wake | dirge , Our moat , the grave where they shall lie . " Note of assault . Watching a corpse all night . XXVII . Proud she look'd round , applause to claim- CANTO IV . 31 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL .
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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...