Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, BaronetMacmillan and Company, 1906 - 559 páginas |
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Página 8
... tide to Teviot's western strand , Through slaty hills , whose sides are shogged with thorn , Where springs in scattered tufts the dark - green corn , Towers wood - girt Harden far above the vale , And clouds of ravens o'er the turrets ...
... tide to Teviot's western strand , Through slaty hills , whose sides are shogged with thorn , Where springs in scattered tufts the dark - green corn , Towers wood - girt Harden far above the vale , And clouds of ravens o'er the turrets ...
Página 11
... tide of war , But never closed the iron door Against the desolate and poor . The Duchess * mark'd his weary pace , His timid mien , and reverend face , And bade her page the menials tell , That they should tend the old man well : For ...
... tide of war , But never closed the iron door Against the desolate and poor . The Duchess * mark'd his weary pace , His timid mien , and reverend face , And bade her page the menials tell , That they should tend the old man well : For ...
Página 12
... tide of song were lost ; Each blank , in faithless memory void , The poet's glowing thought supplied : And , while his harp responsive rung , ' T was thus the LATEST MINSTREL sung . I. THE feast was over in Branksome tower . * And the ...
... tide of song were lost ; Each blank , in faithless memory void , The poet's glowing thought supplied : And , while his harp responsive rung , ' T was thus the LATEST MINSTREL sung . I. THE feast was over in Branksome tower . * And the ...
Página 14
... 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 be , the heavy sound , That moans old Branksome's turrets round ? XIII . At the sullen , moaning sound ...
... 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 be , the heavy sound , That moans old Branksome's turrets round ? XIII . At the sullen , moaning sound ...
Página 15
... tide , December's snow , or July's pride ; Alike to him was tide or time , Moonless midnight , or matin prime : Steady of heart , and stout of hand , As ever drove prey from Cumberland ; Five times outlawed had he been , By England's ...
... tide , December's snow , or July's pride ; Alike to him was tide or time , Moonless midnight , or matin prime : Steady of heart , and stout of hand , As ever drove prey from Cumberland ; Five times outlawed had he been , By England's ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Abbotsford ancient arms band banner bard battle beneath blood blood-hound bold bower brand Branksome Hall brave breast bright broadsword brow Bruce castle chivalry clan courser dark death deep Deloraine Douglas dread Earl English Ettrick Forest fair falchion fame fear fell fierce fight fire gallant glance glen grace grey hall hand harp hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Highland hill holy isle King King Arthur knight lady lake land Liddesdale light Loch Katrine lone Lord Marmion loud maid maiden mark'd minstrel morning Mortham Moss-troopers mountain ne'er noble o'er pale pass'd pibroch pride Risingham rock Roderick Rokeby round rude Saint Saxon scene Scotland Scott Scottish seem'd show'd silvan sire song sought sound spear steed stern stood sword tale tell thee thine thou tide tower turn'd Twas wake warrior wave ween wild wind youth
Pasajes populares
Página 103 - 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 42 - 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 ? 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 concentered all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly...
Página 123 - O woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made ; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou...
Página 47 - O listen, listen, ladies gay ! No haughty feat of arms I tell ; Soft is the note, and sad the lay, That mourns the lovely Rosabelle. — " Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew ! And, gentle ladye, deign to stay ! Rest thee in Castle Ravensheuch, Nor tempt the stormy firth to-day. " The blackening wave is edged with white : To inch* and rock the sea-mews fly; The fishers have heard the Water-Sprite, Whose screams forebode that wreck is nigh. "Last night the gifted Seer did view A wet shroud swathed...
Página 118 - Part we in friendship from your land, And, noble earl, receive my hand." But Douglas round him drew his cloak, Folded his arms, and thus he spoke: "My manors, halls, and bowers shall still Be open, at my sovereign's will, To each one whom he lists, howe'er Unmeet to be the owner's peer. My castles are my king's alone, From turret to foundation-stone; The hand of Douglas is his own, And never shall in friendly grasp The hand of such as Marmion clasp.
Página 104 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
Página 38 - 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.
Página 103 - I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied : — Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide — And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.
Página 58 - O'er PITT'S the mournful requiem sound, And Fox's shall the notes rebound. The solemn echo seems to cry, — " Here let their discord with them die : Speak not for those a separate doom, Whom Fate made Brothers in the tomb ; But search the land of living men, Where wilt thou find their like agen...
Página 47 - There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold Lie buried within that proud chapelle; Each one the holy vault doth hold — But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle 1 And each St. Clair was buried there, With candle, with book and with knell; But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung, The dirge of lovely Rosabelle.