The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, Bart, Volume 3 (Google eBook)

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1822
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Page 58 - But see ! look up on Flodden bent The Scottish foe has fired his tent.' And sudden, as he spoke, From the sharp ridges of the hill, All downward to the banks of Till, Was wreathed in sable smoke. Volumed and...
Page 69 - Clara bound, and strove to stanch the gushing wound: the Monk, with unavailing cares, exhausted all the Church's prayers : ever, he said, that, close and near, a Lady's voice was in his ear, and that the Priest he could not hear, for that she ever sung, " In the lost battle, borne down by the flying, where mingles war's rattle, with groans of the dying!
Page 66 - O woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made ; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou...
Page 61 - The border slogan rent the sky ! A Home ! a Gordon ! was the cry : Loud were the clanging blows ; Advanced, forced back, now low, now high, The pennon sunk and rose ; As bends the bark's mast in the gale, When rent are rigging, shrouds, and sail, It wavered 'mid the foes.
Page 7 - And carols roared with blithesome din ; If unmelodious was the song, It was a hearty note and strong. Who lists may in their mumming see Traces of ancient mystery...
Page 65 - Tunstall lies dead upon the field, His lifeblood stains the spotless shield ; Edmund is down ; my life is reft ; The Admiral alone is left. Let Stanley charge with spur of fire, With Chester charge, and Lancashire, Full upon Scotland's central host, Or victory and England 's lost. Must I bid twice? hence, varlets! fly! Leave Marmion here alone to die.
Page 4 - And brought blithe Christmas back again, With all his hospitable train. Domestic and religious rite Gave honour to the holy night ; 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 315 - Dark green was that spot mid the brown mountain heather, Where the Pilgrim of Nature lay stretched in decay, Like the corpse of an outcast abandoned to weather Till the mountain-winds wasted the tenantless clay.
Page 61 - Scotland's fight. Then fell that spotless banner white, The Howard's lion fell; Yet still Lord Marmion's falcon flew With wavering flight, while fiercer grew Around the battle-yell. The Border slogan rent the sky ! A Home ! a Gordon...
Page 6 - 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.

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