The Lay of the Last Minstrel: With Ballads, Songs, and Miscellaneous PoemsC.S. Francis & Company, 1845 - 352 páginas |
Dentro del libro
Página 39
... In varying cadence , soft or strong , He swept the sounding chords along : The present scene , the future lot , His toils , his wants , were all forgot : Cold diffidence , and age's frost , In the full tide of song were lost ; Each ...
... In varying cadence , soft or strong , He swept the sounding chords along : The present scene , the future lot , His toils , his wants , were all forgot : Cold diffidence , and age's frost , In the full tide of song were lost ; Each ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todo
The Lay of the Last Minstrel: With Ballads, Songs, and Miscellaneous Poems Sir Walter Scott No hay ninguna vista previa disponible - 2016 |
The Lay of the Last Minstrel: With Ballads, Songs, and Miscellaneous Poems Walter Scott No hay ninguna vista previa disponible - 2015 |
Términos y frases comunes
ancient appear Appendix arms band Baron battle bear beneath blood Border bound Branksome Buccleuch called castle Chief clan close Dame dark dead death Deloraine dread Earl English fair father fell field fire forest give hall hand harp head hear heard heart held hill horse hour iron James John King knight lady Ladye laid land light live look Lord lost Marches meet MINSTREL mountain never noble Note o'er person poem rest ride round Saint scarce Scotland Scott Scottish seems seen side song soon soul sound spear spirit steed stone stood strong sword tale tear tell thee thou thought tide Till took tower true voice Walter warriors wave wild wind wound young
Pasajes populares
Página 27 - THE way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old; His withered cheek, and tresses gray, Seemed to have known a better day ; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by an orphan boy. The last of all the Bards was he, Who sung of, Border chivalry; For, well-a-day!
Página 149 - 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 burn'd, As home his footsteps he hath turn'd, From wandering on a foreign strand ! If such there breathe, go, mark him well...
Página 50 - 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...
Página 327 - Diamonds on the brake are gleaming : And foresters have busy been, To track the buck in thicket green ; Now we come to chant our lay, "Waken, lords and ladies gay." Waken, lords and ladies gay, To the greenwood haste away ; We can show you where he lies, Fleet of foot and tall of size ; We can show the marks he made, When 'gainst the oak his antlers frayed ; You shall see him brought to bay, "Waken, lords and ladies gay.
Página 44 - In Eske or Liddel, fords were none, But he would ride them, one by one ; Alike to him was time or 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 King, and Scotland's Queen.
Página 168 - Clair. 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. And each St. Clair was buried there, With candle, with book, and with knell; But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds The dirge of lovely Rosabelle, [sung, XXIV.
Página 175 - That day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay? How shall he meet that dreadful day?
Página 166 - Tis not because the ring they ride, And Lindesay at the ring rides well, But that my sire the wine will chide If 'tis not fill'd by Rosabelle.
Página 149 - Caledonia ! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child ! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood...
Página 306 - Lakes and mountains beneath me gleamed misty and wide ; All was still, save by fits, when the eagle was yelling, And starting around me the echoes replied. On the right, Striden-edge round...