The Poetical Works of Walter Scott, Esq, Volume 1James Eastburn & Company, 1819 |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 46
Page 8
... tower Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower : The minstrel gazed with wishful eye— No humbler resting - place was nigh . With hesitating step , at last , The embattled portal - arch he passed , Whose ponderous grate and massy bar Had ...
... tower Looks out from Yarrow's birchen bower : The minstrel gazed with wishful eye— No humbler resting - place was nigh . With hesitating step , at last , The embattled portal - arch he passed , Whose ponderous grate and massy bar Had ...
Page 11
... tower , And the Lady 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 cross the ...
... tower , And the Lady 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 cross the ...
Page 13
... 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 hangs rusting on the wall Beside his broken spear ...
... 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 hangs rusting on the wall Beside his broken spear ...
Page 16
... tower , And listens to a heavy sound , That moans the mossy turrets round . Is it the roar of Teviot's tide , That chafes against the scaur's * red side ? Is it the wind that swings the oaks ? Is it the echo from the rocks ? What may it ...
... tower , And listens to a heavy sound , That moans the mossy turrets round . Is it the roar of Teviot's tide , That chafes against the scaur's * red side ? Is it the wind that swings the oaks ? Is it the echo from the rocks ? What may it ...
Page 18
... may I read their high decree ! But no kind influence deign they shower On Teviot's tide , and Branksome's tower , Till pride be quelled , and love be free . " XVIII . The unearthly voices ceased , And the heavy 18 Canto I. THE LAY OF.
... may I read their high decree ! But no kind influence deign they shower On Teviot's tide , and Branksome's tower , Till pride be quelled , and love be free . " XVIII . The unearthly voices ceased , And the heavy 18 Canto I. THE LAY OF.
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
ancient arms band banner Bard baron beneath betwixt Bewcastle blaze blood blood-hound Border bower Branksome Branksome hall Branksome's brave Buccleuch bugle called CANTO castle chapel Chief of Kintail Clair clan courser Cranstoun crest Cumberland dæmons Dame dark dead death Douglas dread Earl Earl of Angus Eildon Hills English Ettricke Ettricke Forest fair on Carlisle fame Fawdon fight forest gallant hall hand harp head hear heard heart highnes hill horse Howard Jedburgh king Kintail Kirkwall knight Ladye laird lance lands LAST MINSTREL loud maid Melrose Michael MINSTREL moss-trooper Musgrave Naworth Castle ne'er noble Note o'er ride rode round Saint Cloud Scotland Scots Scottish Scottish Border shulde Sir William slain song spear steed stone stood sword tale Teviot's Teviotdale thee theyre Thomas Musgrave thou Tinlinn tower Twas Virgilius Walter Scott warrior wave wild William of Deloraine wound
Popular passages
Page 121 - 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, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
Page 142 - 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 105 - 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 121 - 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...
Page 29 - 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 ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die...
Page 34 - The moon on the east oriel shone, Through slender shafts of shapely stone, By foliaged tracery combined ; Thou would'st have thought some fairy's hand, "Twixt poplars straight, the osier wand, In many a freakish knot, had twined ; Then framed a spell, when the work was done, And changed the willow wreaths to stone.
Page 7 - Stuarts' throne; The bigots of the iron time Had called his harmless art a crime. A wandering Harper, scorned and poor, He begged his bread from door to door, And tuned, to please a peasant's ear, The harp a king had loved to hear.
Page 277 - And lovers' ears in hearing ; And love, in life's extremity, Can lend an hour of cheering. Disease had been in Mary's bower And slow decay from mourning, Though now she sits on Neidpath's tower To watch her Love's returning.
Page 282 - 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!
Page 122 - 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! what mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band, That knits me to thy rugged strand!