Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Baronet |
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Page 15
... thou keep , Stay not thou for food or sleep : Be it scroll , or be it book , Into it , Knight , thou must not look ; If thou readest , thou art lorn ! Better hadst thou ne'er been born ! " . XXIV . " O swiftly can speed my dapple - grey ...
... thou keep , Stay not thou for food or sleep : Be it scroll , or be it book , Into it , Knight , thou must not look ; If thou readest , thou art lorn ! Better hadst thou ne'er been born ! " . XXIV . " O swiftly can speed my dapple - grey ...
Page 17
... thou would'st view fair Melrose aright , Go visit it by the pale moonlight ; For the gay beams of lightsome day , Gild , but to flout , the ruins grey . When the broken arches are black in night , And each shafted oriel glimmers white ...
... thou would'st view fair Melrose aright , Go visit it by the pale moonlight ; For the gay beams of lightsome day , Gild , but to flout , the ruins grey . When the broken arches are black in night , And each shafted oriel glimmers white ...
Page 26
... thou shalt dearly rue ! For Walter of Harden shall come with speed , And William of Deloraine , good at need , And every Scott , from Esk to Tweed ; And , if thou dost not let me go , Despite thy arrows , and thy bow , I'll have thee ...
... thou shalt dearly rue ! For Walter of Harden shall come with speed , And William of Deloraine , good at need , And every Scott , from Esk to Tweed ; And , if thou dost not let me go , Despite thy arrows , and thy bow , I'll have thee ...
Page 30
... thou be , I trow , I can rein Bucksfoot better than thou . " . Word on word gave fuel to fire , Till so highly blazed the Beattison's ire , But that the Earl the flight had ta'en , The vassals there their lord had slain . Sore he plied ...
... thou be , I trow , I can rein Bucksfoot better than thou . " . Word on word gave fuel to fire , Till so highly blazed the Beattison's ire , But that the Earl the flight had ta'en , The vassals there their lord had slain . Sore he plied ...
Page 41
... thou here ! I ween , my deadly enemy ; For , if I slew thy brother dear , Thou slew'st a sister's son to me ; And when I lay in dungeon dark , Of Naworth Castle , long months three , Till ransom'd for a thousand mark , Dark Musgrave ...
... thou here ! I ween , my deadly enemy ; For , if I slew thy brother dear , Thou slew'st a sister's son to me ; And when I lay in dungeon dark , Of Naworth Castle , long months three , Till ransom'd for a thousand mark , Dark Musgrave ...
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Common terms and phrases
Abbotsford ancient arms band banner bard battle beneath blood blood-hound bold bower brand Branksome Hall brave breast bright broadsword brow Bruce castle chivalry clan courser dark death deep Deloraine Douglas dread Earl English Ettrick Forest fair falchion fame fear fell fierce fight fire gallant glance glen grace grey hall hand harp hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Highland hill holy isle King King Arthur knight lady lake land Liddesdale light Loch Katrine lone Lord Marmion loud maid maiden mark'd minstrel morning Mortham Moss-troopers mountain ne'er noble o'er pale pass'd pibroch pride Risingham rock Roderick Rokeby round rude Saint Saxon scene Scotland Scott Scottish seem'd show'd silvan sire song sought sound spear steed stern stood sword tale tell thee thine thou tide tower turn'd Twas wake warrior wave ween wild wind youth
Popular passages
Page 103 - 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 42 - 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 burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go mark him well ; For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim ; Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch concentered all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly...
Page 123 - O woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made ; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou...
Page 47 - O listen, listen, ladies gay ! No haughty feat of arms I tell ; Soft is the note, and sad the lay, That mourns the lovely Rosabelle. — " Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew ! And, gentle ladye, deign to stay ! Rest thee in Castle Ravensheuch, Nor tempt the stormy firth to-day. " The blackening wave is edged with white : To inch* and rock the sea-mews fly; The fishers have heard the Water-Sprite, Whose screams forebode that wreck is nigh. "Last night the gifted Seer did view A wet shroud swathed...
Page 118 - Part we in friendship from your land, And, noble earl, receive my hand." But Douglas round him drew his cloak, Folded his arms, and thus he spoke: "My manors, halls, and bowers shall still Be open, at my sovereign's will, To each one whom he lists, howe'er Unmeet to be the owner's peer. My castles are my king's alone, From turret to foundation-stone; The hand of Douglas is his own, And never shall in friendly grasp The hand of such as Marmion clasp.
Page 104 - 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?
Page 38 - True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven : It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly ; It liveth not in fierce desire, With dead desire it doth not die ; It is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind. In body and in soul can bind.
Page 103 - I long woo'd 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 58 - O'er PITT'S the mournful requiem sound, And Fox's shall the notes rebound. The solemn echo seems to cry, — " Here let their discord with them die : Speak not for those a separate doom, Whom Fate made Brothers in the tomb ; But search the land of living men, Where wilt thou find their like agen...
Page 47 - 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 1 And each St. Clair was buried there, With candle, with book and with knell; But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung, The dirge of lovely Rosabelle.