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Angus answered appear arms band battle bear blade blood bold Border brand brave brow called canto castle cause chase Chief Chieftain claim clan close Cross dark death deep Douglas dream drew Earl Ellen fair fear fire Fitz-James follow gave give glance glen grace gray green guard hand harp head hear heard heart heaven held Highland hill hold James John King King's knew knight known lady lake land light living Loch look Lord lost maid means minstrel morning mountain never noble o'er once pass person plaid poem pride rest returned rock Roderick rose round Saxon Scotland SCOTT Scottish seemed side soon sought sound speed stand step Stirling stood strain stranger sword tear thee thine thou thought tide Till true turned wave wild wind
Page 108 - 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; From shingles...
Page 108 - That whistle garrison'd the glen At once with full five hundred men, As if the yawning hill to heaven A subterranean host had given. Watching their leader's beck and will, All silent there they stood, and still, Like the loose crags whose threatening mass Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass, As if an infant's touch could urge Their headlong passage down the verge, With step and weapon forward flung, Upon the mountain-side they hung.
Page 113 - Now, truce, farewell! and ruth begone! — Yet think not that by thee alone, Proud Chief! can courtesy be shown; Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn, Start at my whistle clansmen stern, Of this small horn one feeble blast Would fearful odds against thee cast. But fear not, doubt not, which thou wilt — We try this quarrel hilt to hilt.
Page 21 - Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done; While our slumbrous spells assail ye, Dream not, with the rising sun, Bugles here shall sound reveille. Sleep ! the deer is in his den ; Sleep! thy hounds are by thee lying: Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen How thy gallant steed lay dying. Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done; Think not of the rising sun, For at dawning to assail ye Here no bugles sound reveille.
Page 65 - 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.
Page 39 - Some feelings are to mortals given, With less of earth in them than heaven ; And if there be a human tear From passion's dross refined and clear, A tear so limpid and so meek, It would not stain an angel's cheek, 'Tis that which pious fathers shed Upon a duteous daughter's head...
Page 152 - On him each courtier's eye was bent ; Midst furs, and silks, and jewels sheen, He stood, in simple Lincoln green. The centre of the glittering ring. And Snowdoun's Knight is Scotland's King ! As wreath of snow, on mountain-breast, Slides from the rock that gave it rest, Poor Ellen glided from her stay, And at the Monarch's feet she lay ; No word her choking voice commands, — She show'd the ring, she clasp'd her hands.
Page 127 - Who o'er the herd would wish to reign, Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain ! Vain as the leaf upon the stream, And fickle as a changeful dream ; Fantastic as a woman's mood, And fierce as Frenzy's fever'd blood.