Memoirs of the life of sir Walter Scott [by J.G. Lockhart].

Cadell, 1839
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Página 184 - Cold on Canadian hills or Minden's plain, Perhaps that parent wept her soldier slain ; Bent o'er her babe, her eye dissolved in dew, The big drops mingling with the milk he drew, Gave the sad presage of his future years, The child of misery baptized in tears.
Página 110 - Of witches' spells, of warriors' arms; Of patriot battles won of old By Wallace wight and Bruce the bold ; Of later fields of feud and fight, When pouring from the Highland height, The Scottish clans, in headlong sway, Had swept the scarlet ranks away.
Página 109 - Thus while I ape the measure wild Of tales that charm'd me yet a child, Rude though they be, still with the chime Return the thoughts of early time ; And feelings, roused in life's first day, Glow in the line, and prompt the lay.
Página 90 - Where Bortha hoarse, that loads the meads with sand, Rolls her red tide to Teviot's western strand, Through slaty hills, whose sides are shagged 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 sail.
Página 68 - Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way, And merrily hent the stile-a; A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tires in a mile-a.
Página 267 - sic an endless fund o' humour and drollery as he then had wi' him ! Never ten yards but we were either laughing or roaring and singing. Wherever we stopped, how brawlie he suited himsel' to everybody ! He aye did as the lave did ; never made himsel' the great man, or took ony airs in the company. I've seen him in a...
Página 180 - THE dews of summer night did fall, The moon (sweet Regent of the sky!) Silvered the walls of Cumnor Hall And many an oak that grew thereby.
Página 377 - O father! O father! now, now, keep your hold, The Erl-King has seized me — his grasp is so cold!' Sore trembled the father; he...
Página 117 - SUpped in Mr Walter Scott's. He has the most extraordinary genius of a boy I ever saw. He was reading a poem to his mother when I went in. I made him read on ; it was the description of a shipwreck. His passion rose with the storm. He lifted his eyes and hands. ' There's the mast gone,' says he ; ' crash it goes ! — they will all perish!
Página 240 - Walter had soon begun to collect out-of-the-way things of all sorts. He had more books than shelves; a small painted cabinet, with Scotch and Roman coins in it, and so forth. A claymore and Lochaber axe, given him by old Invernahyle, mounted guard on a little print of Prince Charlie ; and Srouyhton's Saucer was hooked up against the wall below it.

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