The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Baronet, Volumen6A. Constable, 1821 |
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Página 25
... death ; And Valour , lion - mettled lord , Leaning upon his own good sword . Well has thy fair achievement shown , A worthy meed may thus be won ; Ytene's * oaks - beneath whose shade Their theme the TO CANTO FIRST . 25.
... death ; And Valour , lion - mettled lord , Leaning upon his own good sword . Well has thy fair achievement shown , A worthy meed may thus be won ; Ytene's * oaks - beneath whose shade Their theme the TO CANTO FIRST . 25.
Página 35
... sword could sway , And lightly bear the ring away ; Nor less with courteous precepts stored , Could dance in hall , and carve at board , And frame love - ditties passing rare , And sing them to a lady fair . VIII . Four men - at - arms ...
... sword could sway , And lightly bear the ring away ; Nor less with courteous precepts stored , Could dance in hall , and carve at board , And frame love - ditties passing rare , And sing them to a lady fair . VIII . Four men - at - arms ...
Página 127
... sword on BRUNSWICK'S tomb . " Or of the Red - Cross hero teach , " Dauntless in dungeon as on breach : " Alike to him the sea , the shore , " The brand , the bridle , or the oar : " Alike to him the war that calls " Its votaries to the ...
... sword on BRUNSWICK'S tomb . " Or of the Red - Cross hero teach , " Dauntless in dungeon as on breach : " Alike to him the sea , the shore , " The brand , the bridle , or the oar : " Alike to him the war that calls " Its votaries to the ...
Página 157
... sword ; " A wiser never , at the hour " Of midnight , spoke the word of power : " The same , whom ancient records call " The founder of the Goblin - Hall . " I would , Sir Knight , your longer stay Canto III . THE HOSTEL , OR INN . 157.
... sword ; " A wiser never , at the hour " Of midnight , spoke the word of power : " The same , whom ancient records call " The founder of the Goblin - Hall . " I would , Sir Knight , your longer stay Canto III . THE HOSTEL , OR INN . 157.
Página 160
... sword without a guard . XXI . " Dire dealings with the fiendish race " Had mark'd strange lines upon his face ; 66 Vigil and fast had worn him grim , " His eye - sight dazzled seem'd , and dim , " As one unused to upper day ; " Even his ...
... sword without a guard . XXI . " Dire dealings with the fiendish race " Had mark'd strange lines upon his face ; 66 Vigil and fast had worn him grim , " His eye - sight dazzled seem'd , and dim , " As one unused to upper day ; " Even his ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Abbess ancient Angus arms band banner battle beneath blast bold Border Bothwell brand called CANTO castle chapel Clare Cuthbert dame dark deep Douglas e'er Earl Earl of Mar Edinburgh England English Eustace fair falcon fear fell fight Fitz-Eustace Flodden foes gallant grace grave Guenever hall hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Hilda hill holy Holy Island horse host James IV King James King's knight Lady land light Lindesay Lindisfarn Lochinvar Lord Marmion loud maid mark'd merry minstrel Monarch monks mountain ne'er noble Norham Norham Castle Northumberland Note nought o'er Palmer pass'd Perchance Pitscottie plain rest rode round royal rude Saint Saint George scarce Scotland Scottish seem'd shield Sir David Sir Launcelot spear squire St Cuthbert steed stood Surrey sword tale Tamworth Tantallon tell thee Thomas Gray thou thought tide tower Twas Whitby Whitby's wild Wilton
Pasajes populares
Página 227 - With gloomy splendour red ; For on the smoke-wreaths, huge and slow, That round her sable turrets flow, The morning beams were shed, And tinged them with a lustre proud, Like that which streaks a thunder-cloud. Such dusky grandeur clothed the height, Where the huge castle holds its state, And all the steep slope down Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky, Piled deep and massy, close and high, Mine own romantic town...
Página 268 - 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.
Página 377 - Though bill-men ply the ghastly blow, Unbroken was the ring ; The stubborn spear-men still made good Their dark impenetrable wood, Each stepping where his comrade stood, The instant that he fell.
Página 266 - 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.
Página 345 - Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, And shook his very frame for ire. "And this to me !" he said ; "An 'twere not for thy hoary beard, Such hand as Marmion's had not spared To cleave the Douglas
Página 10 - 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 Tweed.
Página 373 - In vain for Constance is your zeal ; She died at Holy Isle."— Lord Marmion started from the ground, As light as if he felt no wound ; Though in the action burst the tide, In torrents, from his wounded side. " Then it was truth," he said — " I knew That the dark presage must be true.— I would the Fiend, to whom belongs The vengeance due to all her wrongs, Would spare me but a day ! For wasting fire, and dying groan, And priests slain on the altar stone, Might bribe him for delay.
Página 346 - I tell thee, thou'rt defied ! And if thou said'st I am not peer To any lord in Scotland here, Lowland or Highland, far or near, Lord Angus, thou hast lied...
Página 151 - Where shall the traitor rest, He, the deceiver, Who could win maiden's breast, Ruin, and leave her ? In the lost battle, Borne down by the flying, Where mingles war's rattle With groans of the dying ; Eleu loro There shall he be lying.
Página 346 - Lord Marmion turned — well was his need — And dashed the rowels in his steed, Like arrow through the archway sprung, The ponderous grate behind him rung; To pass there was such scanty room, The bars descending razed his plume.