Marmion

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Page 260 - 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 128 - To him the venerable Priest, Our frequent and familiar guest, Whose life and manners well could paint Alike the student and the saint ; Alas ! whose speech too oft I broke With gambol rude and timeless joke : For I was wayward, bold, and wild, A self-will'd imp, a grandame's child ; But half a plague, and half a jest, Was still endured, beloved, caress'd.
Page 339 - Horse ! horse !" the Douglas cried, " and chase !* But soon he reined his fury's pace : " A royal messenger he came, Though most unworthy of the name. — A letter forged ! Saint Jude to speed! Did ever knight so foul a deed ! At first in heart it liked me ill, When the King praised his clerkly skill. Thanks to Saint Bothan, son of mine, Save Gawain, ne'er could pen a line : So swore I, and I swear it still, Let my boy-bishop fret his fill.
Page 259 - I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied ; — Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide — • And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.
Page 362 - 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 258 - O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best, And save his good broad-sword he weapons had none ; He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
Page 364 - Or injured Constance, bathes my head !" Then, as remembrance rose,— " Speak not to me of shrift or prayer ! I must redress her woes. Short space, few words, are mine to spare; Forgive and listen, gentle Clare!"— " Alas! " she said, " the while,— 0 think of your immortal weal ! In vain for Constance is your zeal; She died at Holy Isle.
Page 338 - I tell thee, thou'rt defied! And if thou saidst I am not peer To any lord in Scotland here, Lowland or Highland, far or near, Lord Angus, thou hast lied...
Page 337 - Douglas' head ! And, first, I tell thee, haughty Peer, He, who does England's message here, Although the meanest in her state, May well, proud Angus, be thy mate : And, Douglas, more I tell thee here...
Page 354 - 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...

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