The poetical works of sir Walter Scott (Google eBook)

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1823
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Page 17 - 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, 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 fray'd ; You shall see him brought to bay ; Waken, lords and ladies gay.
Page 16 - Springlets in the dawn are steaming, 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.
Page 56 - ... pining, Till through her wasted hand, at night, You saw the taper shining. By fits a sultry hectic hue Across her cheek was flying ; By fits so ashy pale she grew Her maidens thought her dying. Yet keenest powers to see and hear...
Page 318 - ... former customes of the countrey inviolable, and to deliver up the succession peaceably to his Tanist, and then hath a wand delivered unto him by some whose proper office that is ; after which, descending from the stone, he turneth himself round, thrice forwards and thrice backwards. " Eudox. But how is the Tanist chosen ? " Iren. They say he setteth but one foot upon the stone, and receiveth the like oath that the captaine did.
Page 65 - Then woman's shriek was heard in vain, Nor infancy's unpitied plain, More than the warrior's groan, could gain Respite from ruthless butchery ! The winter wind that whistled shrill, The snows that night that cloked the hill, Though wild and pitiless, had still Far more than Southern clemency.
Page 188 - Maiden ! a nameless life I lead, A nameless death I'll die ! The fiend, whose lantern lights the mead, Were better mate than I ! And when I'm with my comrades met, Beneath the greenwood bough, What once we were we all forget, Nor think what we are now.
Page 188 - I'm with my comrades met, Beneath the greenwood bough, What once we were we all forget, Nor think what we are now. Chorus "Yet Brignall banks are fresh and fair, And Greta woods are green, And you may gather garlands there Would grace a summer queen.
Page 47 - No distant baying reach'd his ears ; His courser, rooted to the ground, The quickening spur unmindful bears. Still dark and darker frown the shades, Dark, as the darkness of the grave ; ^ And not a sound the still invades, Save what a distant torrent gave.
Page 64 - Their flag was furl'd, and mute their drum, The very household dogs were dumb, Unwont to bay at guests that come In guise of hospitality. His blithest notes the piper plied, Her gayest snood the maiden tied, The dame her distaff flung aside, To tend her kindly housewifery.
Page 204 - Ravensworth prances in pride, And he views his domains upon Arkindale side. The mere for his net, and the land for his game, The chase for the wild, and the park for the tame ; Yet the fish of the lake, and the deer of the vale, Are less free to Lord Dacre than Allen-a-dale.

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