The Lyrics and Ballads of Sir Walter Scott |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 27
Page 12
... Mingle shades of joy and woe , Hope , and fear , and peace , and strife , In the thread of human life . Whilst the mystic twist is spinning , And the infant's 12 SIR WALTER SCOTT'S TWIST YE, TWINE YE' Twist ye, twine ye! even.
... Mingle shades of joy and woe , Hope , and fear , and peace , and strife , In the thread of human life . Whilst the mystic twist is spinning , And the infant's 12 SIR WALTER SCOTT'S TWIST YE, TWINE YE' Twist ye, twine ye! even.
Page 13
... fear , In the magic dance appear . Now they wax , and now they dwindle , Whirling with the whirling spindle . Twist ye , twine ye ! even so , Mingle human bliss and woe .-- THE DYING GIPSY'S DIRGE From Guy Mannering . WASTED , weary ...
... fear , In the magic dance appear . Now they wax , and now they dwindle , Whirling with the whirling spindle . Twist ye , twine ye ! even so , Mingle human bliss and woe .-- THE DYING GIPSY'S DIRGE From Guy Mannering . WASTED , weary ...
Page 14
Walter Scott Andrew Lang. Fear not snow - drift driving fast , Sleet , or hail , or levin blast ; Soon the shroud shall lap thee fast , And the sleep be on thee cast That shall ne'er know waking . Haste thee , haste thee , to be gone ...
Walter Scott Andrew Lang. Fear not snow - drift driving fast , Sleet , or hail , or levin blast ; Soon the shroud shall lap thee fast , And the sleep be on thee cast That shall ne'er know waking . Haste thee , haste thee , to be gone ...
Page 23
... fear.- What did ye wi ' the bridal ring - bridal ring- bridal ring ? What did ye wi ' your wedding ring , ye little cutty quean , O ? I gied it till a sodger , a sodger , a sodger , I gied it till a sodger , an auld true love o ' mine ...
... fear.- What did ye wi ' the bridal ring - bridal ring- bridal ring ? What did ye wi ' your wedding ring , ye little cutty quean , O ? I gied it till a sodger , a sodger , a sodger , I gied it till a sodger , an auld true love o ' mine ...
Page 47
... to be hang'd ; There was spite in each look , there was fear in each e'e , As they watch'd for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee . Come fill up my cup , etc. These cowls of Kilmarnock had spits and had spears , 47 LYRICS AND BALLADS.
... to be hang'd ; There was spite in each look , there was fear in each e'e , As they watch'd for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee . Come fill up my cup , etc. These cowls of Kilmarnock had spits and had spears , 47 LYRICS AND BALLADS.
Contents
1 | |
7 | |
9 | |
16 | |
24 | |
32 | |
34 | |
40 | |
46 | |
51 | |
57 | |
64 | |
70 | |
77 | |
83 | |
88 | |
94 | |
101 | |
106 | |
112 | |
161 | |
163 | |
171 | |
172 | |
180 | |
194 | |
206 | |
215 | |
224 | |
232 | |
240 | |
247 | |
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Allen-a-Dale ballad banner battle beneath blaze blithe blood bold bonnet of Bonny Bonny Dundee BOTHWELL CASTLE bower brand brave bright Brignall brow bugle Carlisle wall castle cavalier Chief clan County Guy dark deer Donald Caird's dream Evandale fair on Carlisle fairy fame Farewell fear fell forest gallant gleam glen Gray Brother grey Grigalach Guy Mannering hall hand harp Hazeldean hear heard heart Heart of Midlothian heaven Highland hills hour ladies gay lake land light Lochinvar lonely Lord loud maid Maiden merry mingle minstrel mountain ne'er Netherby never night o'er Old Mortality pale pibroch poor Louise pride proud Queen ride ring Rokeby rung Saint Cloud Scotland Scott shines sing sleep SONG sound spear steed stream sung sweet sword tale tell thee there's thine thou tower True Thomas Twas verse volume wake wanderer warrior wave ween wild wind wood
Popular passages
Page 66 - 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 l 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 29 - Oh ! young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best ; And save his good broadsword he weapons had none, He rode all unarmed and he rode all alone. So faithful in love and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
Page 1 - Hounds are in their couples yelling, Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, Merrily merrily mingle they, ' Waken, lords and ladies gay. ' Waken, lords and ladies gay...
Page 62 - The blackening wave is edg'd with white : To inch and rock the sea-mews fly ; The fishers have heard the WaterSprite, Whose screams forebode that wreck is nigh.
Page 33 - But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! 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. Fleet foot on the correi, Sage counsel in cumber.
Page 46 - twas Claver'se who spoke, ' Ere the King's crown shall fall there are crowns to be broke ; So let each Cavalier who loves honour and me, Come follow the bonnet of Bonny Dundee.
Page 64 - Soft shall be his pillow. There, through the summer day, Cool streams are laving ; There, while the tempests sway, Scarce are boughs waving ; There, thy rest shalt thou take, Parted for ever, Never again to wake, Never, O never.
Page 79 - In the proudly-arch'd chapel the banners are beaming, Far adown the long aisle sacred music is streaming, Lamenting a Chief of the people should fall. But meeter for thee, gentle lover of nature, To lay down thy head like the meek mountain lamb, When, wilder'd, he drops from some cliff huge in stature, And draws his last sob by the side of his dam.
Page 220 - Whose limbs a thousand years have worn, What sullen roar comes down the gale And drowns the hunter's pealing horn? Mightiest of all the beasts of chase That roam in woody Caledon, Crashing the forest in his race, The Mountain Bull comes thundering on. Fierce on the hunter's quiver'd band He rolls his eyes of swarthy glow, Spurns with black hoof and horn the sand, And tosses high his mane of snow.
Page 182 - Her shirt was o' the grass-green silk, Her mantle o' the velvet fyne ; At ilka tett of her horse's mane, Hung fifty siller bells and nine. True Thomas, he pull'd aff his cap, And Iputed low down to his knee, " All hail, thou mighty queen of heaven ! For thy peer on earth I never did see."—