The Lay of the Last Minstrel: With Ballads, Songs, and Miscellaneous Poems

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C.S. Francis & Company, 1845 - 352 páginas

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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...

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