The Complete Works of Sir Walter Scott: With a Biography, and His Last Additions and Illustrations, Volume 1 |
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Page 439
The impatient rider strove in vain To rouse him with the spur and rein , Boon
nature scatter'd , free and wild , For the good steed , his labours o'er , Each plant ,
or flower , the mountain's child . Stretched his stiff limbs to rise no more .
The impatient rider strove in vain To rouse him with the spur and rein , Boon
nature scatter'd , free and wild , For the good steed , his labours o'er , Each plant ,
or flower , the mountain's child . Stretched his stiff limbs to rise no more .
Page 650
Beguiles the musing eye , My Muse , then -- seldom will she wake , When ,
gazing on the sinking fire , Save by dim wood and silent lake ; Bulwark , and
battlement , and spire , She is the wild and rustic Maid , In the red gulf we spy .
Whose foot ...
Beguiles the musing eye , My Muse , then -- seldom will she wake , When ,
gazing on the sinking fire , Save by dim wood and silent lake ; Bulwark , and
battlement , and spire , She is the wild and rustic Maid , In the red gulf we spy .
Whose foot ...
Page 687
Through steel and shot he leads no more , Low laid ' mid friends ' and foemen's
goreBut long his native lake's wild shore , And Sunart rough , and high Ardgower
, And Morven long shall tell , And proud Bennevis hear with awe , How , upon ...
Through steel and shot he leads no more , Low laid ' mid friends ' and foemen's
goreBut long his native lake's wild shore , And Sunart rough , and high Ardgower
, And Morven long shall tell , And proud Bennevis hear with awe , How , upon ...
Page 688
They do not bend the rye That sinks its head when whirlwinds rave , And swells
again in eddying wave , As each wild gust blows by ; ROMANCE OF DUNOIS .
But still the corn At dawn of morn , FROM THE FRENCH . Our fatal steps that bore
...
They do not bend the rye That sinks its head when whirlwinds rave , And swells
again in eddying wave , As each wild gust blows by ; ROMANCE OF DUNOIS .
But still the corn At dawn of morn , FROM THE FRENCH . Our fatal steps that bore
...
Page 824
every one will respect , for we are but equals ; -- they Wild . Well -- it shall be
done . feel it , and turn restive . Goetz . Then I bind myself to you for four weeks .
Link . Whom do they think of ? Stumf . Good ! -in what thou doest , take care of
Mez .
every one will respect , for we are but equals ; -- they Wild . Well -- it shall be
done . feel it , and turn restive . Goetz . Then I bind myself to you for four weeks .
Link . Whom do they think of ? Stumf . Good ! -in what thou doest , take care of
Mez .
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Popular passages
Page 165 - There lived a wife at Usher's Well, And a wealthy wife was she; She had three stout and stalwart sons, And sent them oer the sea. They hadna been a week from her, « A week but barely ane, When word came to the carline wife That her three sons were gane.
Page 141 - O that I were where Helen lies ! Night and day on me she cries ; Out of my bed she bids me rise, Says,
Page 195 - O no, O no, Thomas," she said, That name does not belang to me ; I am but the queen of fair Elfland, That am hither come to visit thee.
Page 46 - Now, ever alake ! my master dear, I fear a deadly storm ! " I saw the new moon late yestreen, Wi' the auld moon in her arm ; And if we gang to sea, master, I fear we'll come to harm.
Page 166 - Blow up the fire, my maidens! Bring water from the well! For a' my house shall feast this night, Since my three sons are well.
Page 325 - 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 ; When distant Tweed is heard to rave, And the owlet to hoot o'er the dead man's grave, Then go— but go alone the while — Then view St. David's ruined pile ; And, home' returning, soothly swear, Was never scene so sad and fair ! II.
Page 46 - To take the helm in hand, Till you go up to the tall topmast, But I fear you'll ne'er spy land.
Page 329 - Tis said, as through the aisles they pass'd, They heard strange noises on the blast ; And through the cloister-galleries small, Which at mid-height thread the chancel wall Loud sobs, and laughter louder, ran, And voices unlike the voice of man; As if the fiends kept holiday, Because these spells were brought to day. I cannot tell how the truth may be : I say the tale as 'twas said to me.
Page 347 - 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 ! Still, as I view each well-known scene, Think what is now, and what hath been, Seems as, to me, of all bereft, Sole friends thy woods and streams were left ; And thus I love them better still, Even in extremity of ill.
Page 325 - 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...