The Complete Poetical Works of Sir Walter ScottThomas Y. Crowell, 1894 - 770 pages |
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Page iv
... rest on a higher shelf , but Scott will be nearer at hand for the multitude of readers , and his volumes will require more frequent rebinding . 66 .. He was past thirty years old before his poetic genius found its full ex- pression . He ...
... rest on a higher shelf , but Scott will be nearer at hand for the multitude of readers , and his volumes will require more frequent rebinding . 66 .. He was past thirty years old before his poetic genius found its full ex- pression . He ...
Page vii
... rest should go , some of his lyrics , at least , are sure to be saved . ' What he once called " The only good song I ever wrote , " the " Pibroch of Donald Dhu , " with its spirited rallying cry , " Come as the winds come , when Forests ...
... rest should go , some of his lyrics , at least , are sure to be saved . ' What he once called " The only good song I ever wrote , " the " Pibroch of Donald Dhu , " with its spirited rallying cry , " Come as the winds come , when Forests ...
Page 9
... rest . No more on prancing palfrey borne , He caroll'd , light as lark at morn ; No longer courted and caress'd , High placed in hall , a welcome guest , He pour'd , to lord and lady gay , The unpremeditated lay : Old times were changed ...
... rest . No more on prancing palfrey borne , He caroll'd , light as lark at morn ; No longer courted and caress'd , High placed in hall , a welcome guest , He pour'd , to lord and lady gay , The unpremeditated lay : Old times were changed ...
Page 10
... rest , With corselet laced , Pillow'd on buckler cold and hard ; They carved at the meal With gloves of steel , And they drank the red wine through the helmet barr'd . V. Ten squires , ten yeomen , mail - clad men , Waited the beck of ...
... rest , With corselet laced , Pillow'd on buckler cold and hard ; They carved at the meal With gloves of steel , And they drank the red wine through the helmet barr'd . V. Ten squires , ten yeomen , mail - clad men , Waited the beck of ...
Page 14
... rest , Where falcons hang their giddy nest , Mid cliffs , from whence his eagle eye For many a league his prey could spy ; Cliffs , doubling , on their echoes borne , The terrors of the robber's horn ; Cliffs , which , for many a later ...
... rest , Where falcons hang their giddy nest , Mid cliffs , from whence his eagle eye For many a league his prey could spy ; Cliffs , doubling , on their echoes borne , The terrors of the robber's horn ; Cliffs , which , for many a later ...
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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...