The Lady of the LakeMacmillan, 1918 - 208 sidor |
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Vanliga ord och fraser
Abbotsford Allan Alpine's aught band battle Beltane Benvenue blade blood bold brand brave breast broadsword brow Canto Castle chase Chief Chieftain clan Clan-Alpine's couch crest dark deep deer Douglas dread dream Dryburgh Abbey Edited Ellen fair fear Fiery Cross Fitz-James gallant glance glen grace gray Guy Mannering hand harp heart heath heaven Highland hill hounds isle James Julius Cæsar King knight Lady lake Loch Achray Loch Katrine Loch Lomond Loch Voil lone Lord loud maid maiden Malcolm Græme Malise Marmion martial merry mingled Minstrel morning mountain ne'er noble o'er Old Mortality paused pibroch plaid poem pride R. H. Hutton rock Roderick Dhu rose Saxon shallop sire smiled snood song sought sound spear speed stag steed Stirling stood strain stranger sword tear thee thine thou tide tower Trosachs Twas wake Walter Scott wave wild word
Populära avsnitt
Sida 119 - His back against a rock he bore, And firmly placed his foot before : — " Come one, come all ! this rock shall fly From its firm base as soon as I.
Sida 69 - He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font reappearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! 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.
Sida 116 - I give you shelter in my breast, Your own good blades must win the rest.' Pent in this fortress of the North, Think'st thou we will not sally forth, To spoil the spoiler as we may, And from the robber rend the prey? Ay, by my soul! — While on yon plain The Saxon rears one shock of grain ; While...
Sida 22 - Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking ; Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more : Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
Sida 118 - The rushes and the willow-wand Are bristling into axe and brand, And every tuft of broom gives life To plaided warrior armed for strife. That whistle garrisoned the glen At once with full five hundred men, As if the yawning hill to heaven A subterranean host had given.
Sida 23 - 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.
Sida 125 - No maiden's hand is round thee thrown ! That desperate grasp thy frame might feel Through bars of brass and triple steel ! They tug, they strain ! down, down they go, The Gael above, Fitz-James below. The Chieftain's gripe his throat...
Sida 8 - Or mosque of Eastern architect. Nor were these earth-born castles bare, Nor lacked they many a banner fair ; For, from their shivered brows displayed, Far o'er the unfathomable glade, All twinkling with the dewdrop sheen, The brier-rose fell in streamers green, And creeping shrubs, of thousand dyes, Waved in the west-wind's summer sighs.
Sida 10 - Down to the lake in masses threw Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurled, The fragments of an earlier world ; A wildering forest feathered o'er His ruined sides and summit hoar, While on the north, through middle air, Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare.
Sida 119 - Each warrior vanished where he stood, In broom or bracken, heath or wood ; Sunk brand and spear and bended bow. In osiers pale and copses low ; It seem'd as if their mother Earth Had swallowed up her warlike birth.