The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott: BartG. Routledge, 1866 - 740 páginas |
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Página iii
... Imitations of German Ballads . THE CHASE ... WILLIAM AND HELEN • 702 709 THE FIRE - KING ...... FREDERICK AND ALICE THE ERL - KING . 717 720 From the German of Goethe .. 722 HELLVELLYN THE MAID OF TORO . Miscellaneous . Page 721.
... Imitations of German Ballads . THE CHASE ... WILLIAM AND HELEN • 702 709 THE FIRE - KING ...... FREDERICK AND ALICE THE ERL - KING . 717 720 From the German of Goethe .. 722 HELLVELLYN THE MAID OF TORO . Miscellaneous . Page 721.
Página 6
... fire . The stag - hounds , weary with the chase , Lay stretched upon the rushy floor , And urged , in dreams , the forest race , From Teviot - stone to Eskdale - moor . III Nine - and - twenty knights of fameb Hung their shields in ...
... fire . The stag - hounds , weary with the chase , Lay stretched upon the rushy floor , And urged , in dreams , the forest race , From Teviot - stone to Eskdale - moor . III Nine - and - twenty knights of fameb Hung their shields in ...
Página 16
... fire and courage fell : Dejectedly , and low , he bowed , And , gazing timid on the crowd , He seemed to seek , in every eye , If they approved his minstrelsy ; And , diffident of present praise , Somewhat he spoke of former days , And ...
... fire and courage fell : Dejectedly , and low , he bowed , And , gazing timid on the crowd , He seemed to seek , in every eye , If they approved his minstrelsy ; And , diffident of present praise , Somewhat he spoke of former days , And ...
Página 25
... fire , To paint his faithful passion strove ; Swore he might at her feet expire , But never , never cease to love ; And how she blushed , and how she sighed , And , half consenting , half denied , And said that she would die a maid ...
... fire , To paint his faithful passion strove ; Swore he might at her feet expire , But never , never cease to love ; And how she blushed , and how she sighed , And , half consenting , half denied , And said that she would die a maid ...
Página 28
... fire was fled , And my poor withered heart was dead , And that I might not sing of love ? — How could I to the dearest theme , That ever warmed a minstrel's dream , So foul , so false , a recreant prove ! How could I name love's very ...
... fire was fled , And my poor withered heart was dead , And that I might not sing of love ? — How could I to the dearest theme , That ever warmed a minstrel's dream , So foul , so false , a recreant prove ! How could I name love's very ...
Términos y frases comunes
ancient Argentine arms band banner bard Barnard Castle battle beneath Bertram blood blood-hound bold bower brand Branksome Hall brave breast bright brow Bruce CANTO castle chivalry clan courser crest dark deep Deloraine Douglas dread drew earl Edinburgh Annual Ettricke Forest fair falchion fame fate fear fell fierce fight gallant glance glen grace grey hall hand harp hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill holy honour isle King King Arthur knight lady land Liddesdale light lonely look Lord Marmion Lorn loud maid maiden minstrel monarch Mortham moss-trooper mountain ne'er noble Norham o'er pale passed pride Risingham rock Roderick Rokeby's Ronald round rude rung Saint Saxon Scotland Scottish seemed shore sire smile song sought sound spear steed stern stood stream sword tale tell thee thine thou tide tower train Twas wake warrior wave ween wild Wilfrid wind
Pasajes populares
Página 279 - He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font, reappearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest. Fleet foot on the correi, Sage counsel in cumber.
Página 182 - He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone, He swam the Eske River where ford there was none; But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late: For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. So boldly he...
Página 3 - 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! their date was fled, His tuneful brethren all were dead ; And he, neglected and oppressed, Wished to be with them, and at rest.
Página 312 - Have, then, thy wish!' He whistled shrill, And he was answered from the hill; Wild as the scream of the curlew, From crag to crag the signal flew. Instant, through copse and heath, arose Bonnets and spears and bended bows; On right, on left, above, below, Sprung up at once the lurking foe...
Página 67 - 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, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept,...
Página 221 - As in the storm the white sea-mew, Then marked they, dashing broad and far The broken billows of the war, And plumed crests of chieftains brave, Floating like foam upon the wave...
Página 183 - I long wooed 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 315 - Threw down his target and his plaid, And to the Lowland warrior said : — "Bold Saxon! to his promise just, Vich-Alpine has discharged his trust. This murderous Chief, this ruthless man, This head of a rebellious clan, Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, Far past Clan- Alpine's outmost guard.
Página 724 - How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber? When the wind waved his garment, how oft didst thou start ? How many long days and long weeks didst thou number, Ere he faded before thee, the friend of thy heart ? And oh ! was it meet that — no requiem read o'er him, No mother to weep, and no friend to deplore him, And thou, little guardian, alone stretched before him — Unhonoured the pilgrim from life should depart...
Página 247 - Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking ; Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more; Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking.