The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Bart., Containing Lay of the Last Ministrel, Marmion, Lady of the Lake, Don Roderick, Rokeby, Ballads, Lyrics, and Songs: With a Life of the Author (Google eBook)

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D. Appleton & Company, 1843 - 624 pages
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Page 76 - 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, unhonored, and unsung.
Page 207 - So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; And the bride-maidens whispered, " Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.
Page 362 - Fitz-James's blade was sword and shield. He practised every pass and ward, To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard; While less expert, though stronger far, The Gael maintained unequal war. Three times in closing strife they stood, And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood; No stinted draught, no scanty tide, The gushing flood the tartans dyed.
Page 227 - Scrubbed till it shone, the day to grace, Bore then upon its massive board No mark to part the squire and lord. Then was brought in the lusty brawn, By old blue-coated serving-man ; Then the grim boar's head frowned on high, Crested with bays and rosemary.
Page 256 - Scarce were the piteous accents said, When, with the baron's casque, the maid) To the nigh streamlet ran : Forgot were hatred, wrongs, and fears ; The plaintive voice alone she hears, Sees but the dying man.
Page 207 - One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear, When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near; So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, So light to the saddle before her he sprung ! "She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur; They'll have fleet steeds that follow,
Page 227 - On Christmas eve the bells were rung; On Christmas eve the mass was sung ; That only night, in all the year, Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear.
Page 67 - True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven : It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly ; It liveth not in fierce desire, With dead desire it doth not die ; It is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, In body and in soul can bind.
Page 33 - In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed; In war, he mounts the warrior's steed; In halls, in gay attire is seen; In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above ; For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
Page 133 - With massive arches broad and round, That rose alternate, row and row, On ponderous columns, short and low, Built ere the art was known, By pointed aisle, and shafted stalk, The arcades of an alley'd walk To emulate in stone. On the deep walls, the heathen Dane Had pour'd his impious rage in vain ; And needful was such strength to these, Exposed to the tempestuous seas, Scourged by the winds...

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