The Lay of the Last Minstrel: With Ballads, Songs, and Miscellaneous Poems |
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Page 41
... Branksome tower , ' And the Ladye had gone to her secret bower ; Her bower that was guarded by word and by spell Deadly to hear , and deadly to tell- Jesu Maria , shield us well ! No living wight , save the Ladye alone , Had dared to ...
... Branksome tower , ' And the Ladye had gone to her secret bower ; Her bower that was guarded by word and by spell Deadly to hear , and deadly to tell- Jesu Maria , shield us well ! No living wight , save the Ladye alone , Had dared to ...
Page 42
... Branksome - Hall ; ' Nine - and - twenty squires of name Brought them their steeds to bower from stall ; Nine - and - twenty yeomen tall Waited , duteous , on them all : They were all knights of mettle true , Kinsmen to the bold ...
... Branksome - Hall ; ' Nine - and - twenty squires of name Brought them their steeds to bower from stall ; Nine - and - twenty yeomen tall Waited , duteous , on them all : They were all knights of mettle true , Kinsmen to the bold ...
Page 43
... Branksome's lordly towers , From Warkworth , or Naworth , or merry Carlisle . ' VII . Such is the custom of Branksome - Hall.- Many a valiant knight is here ; But he , the chieftain of them all , His sword bangs rusting on the wall ...
... Branksome's lordly towers , From Warkworth , or Naworth , or merry Carlisle . ' VII . Such is the custom of Branksome - Hall.- Many a valiant knight is here ; But he , the chieftain of them all , His sword bangs rusting on the wall ...
Page 44
... Branksome fell . VIII . Can piety the discord heal , Or stanch the death - feud's enmity ! Can Christian lore , can patriot zeal , Can love of blessed charity ? No ! vainly to each holy shrine , In mutual pilgrimage , they drew ...
... Branksome fell . VIII . Can piety the discord heal , Or stanch the death - feud's enmity ! Can Christian lore , can patriot zeal , Can love of blessed charity ? No ! vainly to each holy shrine , In mutual pilgrimage , they drew ...
Page 49
... Branksome , sorrow - laden , Mourns beneath the moon's pale beam . Tell me , thou , who view'st the stars , When shall cease these feudal jars ? What shall be the maiden's fate ? Who shall be the maiden's mate ? " - XVII . MOUNTAIN ...
... Branksome , sorrow - laden , Mourns beneath the moon's pale beam . Tell me , thou , who view'st the stars , When shall cease these feudal jars ? What shall be the maiden's fate ? Who shall be the maiden's mate ? " - XVII . MOUNTAIN ...
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The Lay of the Last Minstrel: With Ballads, Songs, and Miscellaneous Poems Sir Walter Scott No preview available - 2016 |
The Lay of the Last Minstrel: With Ballads, Songs, and Miscellaneous Poems Walter Scott No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
ancient Appendix arms ballad band Bard Baron BATTLE OF SEMPACH betwixt blood blood-hound Border Branksome Branksome Hall Branksome's Buccleuch called CANTO Carlisle castle chase Chief Clair clan Count Albert courser Cranstoun Dacre Dame dark dead Deloraine Douglas dread Earl Ettrick Ettrick Forest fair forest FROISSART gallant hall hand harp head hear heard heart horse hound King knight lady Ladye Laird lances land LAST MINSTREL Liddesdale Lord loud maid Melrose Melrose Abbey Mickledale MINSTREL Minstrelsy moss-trooper Mount Lebanon mountain Musgrave Naworth Castle ne'er noble Moringer Note o'er poem pray'd ride rode round Saint Scotland Scots Scott Scottish Scottish Border seem'd shalt Sir William slain song spear steed sword ta'en tale tear tell Teviot's thee Thomas Musgrave thou tide tower Twas Virgilius voice Walter warriors wave ween wild William of Deloraine
Popular passages
Page 27 - 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!
Page 149 - BREATHES there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd, As home his footsteps he hath turn'd, From wandering on a foreign strand ! If such there breathe, go, mark him well...
Page 50 - When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory...
Page 327 - Diamonds on the brake are gleaming : And foresters have busy been, To track the buck in thicket green ; Now we come to chant our lay, "Waken, lords and ladies gay." Waken, lords and ladies gay, To the greenwood haste away ; We can show you where he lies, Fleet of foot and tall of size ; We can show the marks he made, When 'gainst the oak his antlers frayed ; You shall see him brought to bay, "Waken, lords and ladies gay.
Page 44 - In Eske or Liddel, fords were none, But he would ride them, one by one ; Alike to him was time or tide, December's snow, or July's pride ; Alike to him was tide or time, Moonless midnight, or matin prime : Steady of heart, and stout of hand, As ever drove prey from Cumberland ; Five times outlawed had he been, By England's King, and Scotland's Queen.
Page 168 - Clair. There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold Lie buried within that proud chapelle ; Each one the holy vault doth hold — But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle. And each St. Clair was buried there, With candle, with book, and with knell; But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds The dirge of lovely Rosabelle, [sung, XXIV.
Page 175 - That day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay? How shall he meet that dreadful day?
Page 166 - Tis not because the ring they ride, And Lindesay at the ring rides well, But that my sire the wine will chide If 'tis not fill'd by Rosabelle.
Page 149 - Caledonia ! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child ! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood...
Page 306 - Lakes and mountains beneath me gleamed misty and wide ; All was still, save by fits, when the eagle was yelling, And starting around me the echoes replied. On the right, Striden-edge round...