The poetical works of sir Walter Scott, Volume 2 |
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Pagina 13
... sound , Till burst the bolt on yonder shore , Roll'd , blazed , destroy'd , —and was no more . Nor mourn ye less his perish'd worth , Who bade the conqueror go forth , And launch'd that thunderbolt of war On Egypt , Hafnia , * Trafalgar ...
... sound , Till burst the bolt on yonder shore , Roll'd , blazed , destroy'd , —and was no more . Nor mourn ye less his perish'd worth , Who bade the conqueror go forth , And launch'd that thunderbolt of war On Egypt , Hafnia , * Trafalgar ...
Pagina 15
... sound is still , The warder silent on the hill ! Oh , think , how to his latest day , When Death , just hovering , claim'd his prey , With Palinure's unalter'd mood , Firm at his dangerous post he stood : Each call for needful rest ...
... sound is still , The warder silent on the hill ! Oh , think , how to his latest day , When Death , just hovering , claim'd his prey , With Palinure's unalter'd mood , Firm at his dangerous post he stood : Each call for needful rest ...
Pagina 19
... sound , And Fox's shall the notes rebound . The solemn echo seems to cry , - " Here let their discord with them die : 66 Speak not for those a separate doom , " Whom Fate made brothers in the tomb , " But search the land of living men ...
... sound , And Fox's shall the notes rebound . The solemn echo seems to cry , - " Here let their discord with them die : 66 Speak not for those a separate doom , " Whom Fate made brothers in the tomb , " But search the land of living men ...
Pagina 21
... sounds die on my ear . Now slow return the lonely down , The silent pastures bleak and brown , The farm begirt with copse - wood wild , The gambols of each frolic child , Mixing their shrill cries with the tone Of Tweed's dark waters ...
... sounds die on my ear . Now slow return the lonely down , The silent pastures bleak and brown , The farm begirt with copse - wood wild , The gambols of each frolic child , Mixing their shrill cries with the tone Of Tweed's dark waters ...
Pagina 24
... and spell , While tyrants ruled , and damsels wept , Thy Genius , Chivalry , hath slept : There sound the harpings of the North , Till he awake and sally forth , On venturous quest to prick again , In all his 24 INTRODUCTION.
... and spell , While tyrants ruled , and damsels wept , Thy Genius , Chivalry , hath slept : There sound the harpings of the North , Till he awake and sally forth , On venturous quest to prick again , In all his 24 INTRODUCTION.
Veelvoorkomende woorden en zinsdelen
Abbess abbot ancient arms Baron beneath Bishop of Durham bold bower breast called CANTO castle chapel Chester-le-Street dark death deep Earl Ettrick Ettrick Forest fair falcon fear Featherston fell fire Fitz-Eustace Flodden Forest Friar gale gentle grace grave Guenever hall hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hill Holy Island holy vessell horse host James James IV King knew knight lady lake lance land Lindisfarn lonely Lord Marmion mark'd merry minstrels monks mountain ne'er never noble Norham Norham Castle Northumberland Note nought o'er Palmer pass'd plain proud pursuivants rest Ridley rock round royal rude Saint Hilda's scarce Scotland Scottish seem'd Shew'd shield Sir David Lindesay Sir Launcelot sound spear squire St Cuthbert steed stone stood sword tale Tamworth tell thee Thomas Gray thou thought tide toil tower Tweed wall Warkworth ween Whitby Whitby's wild word
Populaire passages
Pagina 207 - Of all the palaces so fair, Built for the royal dwelling, In Scotland, far beyond compare Linlithgow is excelling ; And in its park, in jovial June, How sweet the merry linnet's tune ! How blithe the blackbird's lay ! The wild buck bells* from ferny brake, The coot dives merry on the lake, The saddest heart might pleasure take To see all nature gay.
Pagina 17 - Jostling by dark intrigue for place ; Like fabled Gods, their mighty war Shook realms and nations in its...
Pagina 100 - Saint Cuthbert sits, and toils to frame The sea-born beads that bear his name : Such tales had Whitby's fishers told, And said they might his shape behold, And hear his anvil sound ; A deaden'd clang, — a huge dim form, Seen but, and heard, when gathering storm And night were closing round.
Pagina 23 - And Dryden, in immortal strain, Had raised the Table Round again,* But that a ribald King and Court Bade him toil on, to make them sport ; Demanded for their niggard pay, Fit for their souls, a looser lay, Licentious satire, song, and play ; The world defrauded of the high design, Profaned the God-given strength, and marr'd the lofty line.
Pagina 13 - NELSON'S shrine; And vainly pierce the solemn gloom, That shrouds, O PITT, thy hallowed tomb ! Deep graved in every British heart, O never let those names depart ! Say to your sons, — Lo, here his grave, Who victor died on Gadite wave; To him, as to the burning levin, Short, bright, resistless course was given.
Pagina 73 - Thou know'st it well, — nor fen, nor sedge, Pollute the pure lake's crystal edge ; Abrupt and sheer, the mountains sink At once upon the level brink ; And just a trace of silver sand Marks where the water meets the land.
Pagina 147 - 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 ! CHOUUS.
Pagina 115 - Had given him to the headsman's stroke, Although my heart that instant broke. — Now, men of death, work forth your will, For I can suffer, and be still ; And come he slow, or come he fast, It is but Death who comes at last.
Pagina 74 - Bears thwart the lake the scattered pine, Yet even this nakedness has power, And aids the feeling of the hour : Nor thicket, dell, nor copse you spy, Where living thing concealed might lie ; Nor point, retiring, hides a dell Where swain, or woodman lone, might dwell ; There's nothing left to fancy's guess, You see that all is loneliness : And silence aids — though the steep hills Send to the lake a thousand rills ; In summer tide, so soft they weep, The sound but lulls the ear asleep ; Your horse's...
Pagina 274 - You shall faithfully do this, in remembrance that you did most cruelly slay me ; and that you may the better call to God for mercy, repent unfeignedly of your sins, and do good works The officer of Eskdale-side shall blow, ' Out on you, out on you, for this heinous crime.' If you or your successors shall refuse this service, so long as it shall not be full sea at the aforesaid hour, you or yours shall forfeit your lands to the Abbot of Whitby or his successors.