The Lady of the Lake |
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Common terms and phrases
Abbotsford Achray Allan Alpine's aught ballad band battle Beltane Benvenue blade blood bold brand brave breast broadsword brow Canto Castle chase Chief Chieftain clan Clan-Alpine's couch crest dark deep deer Douglas dread dream Dryburgh Abbey Edited Ellen English fair fairy fear Fiery Cross Fitz-James gallant glance glen grace gray Guy Mannering hand harp haste heart heath heaven High School Highland hill hound isle James Julius Cæsar King knight Lady lake Loch Achray Loch Katrine Loch Lomond Loch Voil Lord loud maid maiden Malcolm Græme Malise Marmion martial merry Minstrel morning mountain ne'er noble o'er Old Mortality paused pibroch plaid poem pride R. H. Hutton rock Roderick Dhu rose Saxon Shakespeare's sire snood song sound spear speed stag stanza steed Stirling strain stranger sword tear thee thine thou tide Trosachs Twas Walter Scott wave wild wind word
Popular passages
Page 69 - The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest.
Page 154 - For life ! for life ! their flight they ply — And shriek, and shout, and battle-cry. And plaids and bonnets waving high, And broadswords flashing to the sky, Are maddening in the rear. Onward they drive, in dreadful race, Pursuers and pursued ; Before that tide of flight and chase, How shall it keep its rooted place, The spearmen's twilight wood ? —
Page 22 - Soldier, Rest! Thy Warfare O'er FROM "THE LADY OF THE LAKE" 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.
Page 23 - No rude sound shall reach thine ear, Armour's clang, or war-steed champing, Trump nor pibroch summon here Mustering clan, or squadron tramping. Yet the lark's shrill fife may come At the day-break from the fallow, And the bittern sound his drum, Booming from the sedgy shallow. Ruder sounds shall none be near, Guards nor warders challenge here, Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing, Shouting clans or squadrons stamping.
Page 119 - His back against a rock he bore, And firmly placed his foot before : — "Come one, come all ! this rock shall fly From its firm base as soon as I.
Page 10 - In all her length far winding lay, With promontory, creek, and bay, And islands that, empurpled bright. Floated amid the livelier light, And mountains that like giants stand To sentinel enchanted land. High on the south, huge Benvenue Down to the lake in masses threw Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurled, The fragments of an earlier world...
Page 6 - Vanished game ; But, stumbling in the rugged dell, The gallant horse exhausted fell. The impatient rider strove in vain To rouse him with the spur and rein, For the good steed, his labors o'er, Stretched his stiff limbs, to rise no more...
Page 121 - The Chief in silence strode before, And reached that torrent's sounding shore* Which, daughter of three mighty lakes, From Vennachar in silver breaks, Sweeps through the plain, and ceaseless mines On Bochastle the mouldering lines, Where Rome, the Empress of the world, Of yore her eagle wings unfurled.
Page xx - NOVEMBER'S sky is chill and drear, November's leaf is red and sear : Late, gazing down the steepy linn, That hems our little garden in, Low in its dark and narrow glen, You scarce the rivulet might ken, So thick the tangled greenwood grew, So feeble trill'd the streamlet through : Now, murmuring hoarse, and frequent seen, Through bush and brier, no longer green, An angry brook, it sweeps the glade, Brawls over rock and wild cascade, And, foaming brown with doubled speed, * Hurries its waters to the...
Page 123 - Who ill deserved my courteous care, And whose best boast is but to wear A braid of his fair lady's hair." — " I thank thee, Roderick, for the word ! It nerves my heart, it steels my sword ; For I have sworn this braid to stain In the best blood that warms thy vein. Now, truce, farewell ! and, ruth, begone ! — Yet think not that by thee alone, Proud Chief!