The Poetical WorksFrowde, 1909 - 970 sidor |
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Sida 15
... heaven , and heaven is love . III . So thought Lord Cranstoun , as I ween , While , pondering deep the tender scene , He rode through Branksome's haw- thorn green . But the Page shouted wild and shrill , And scarce his helmet could he ...
... heaven , and heaven is love . III . So thought Lord Cranstoun , as I ween , While , pondering deep the tender scene , He rode through Branksome's haw- thorn green . But the Page shouted wild and shrill , And scarce his helmet could he ...
Sida 20
... heaven : For a sheet of flame from the turret high Wav'd like a blood - flag on the sky , All flaring and uneven ; And soon a score of fires , I ween , From height , and hill , and cliff , were seen ; Each with warlike tidings fraught ...
... heaven : For a sheet of flame from the turret high Wav'd like a blood - flag on the sky , All flaring and uneven ; And soon a score of fires , I ween , From height , and hill , and cliff , were seen ; Each with warlike tidings fraught ...
Sida 28
... heaven the Border slogan rung , ' St. Mary for the young Buc- cleuch ! ' The English war - cry answer'd wide , And forward bent each southern spear ; Each Kendal archer made a stride , And drew the bowstring to his ear ; Each minstrel's ...
... heaven the Border slogan rung , ' St. Mary for the young Buc- cleuch ! ' The English war - cry answer'd wide , And forward bent each southern spear ; Each Kendal archer made a stride , And drew the bowstring to his ear ; Each minstrel's ...
Sida 34
... 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 ...
... 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 ...
Sida 47
... heaven and earth shall pass away , What power shall be the sinner's stay ? How shall he meet that dreadful day ? When , shriveling like a parched scroll , The flaming heavens together roll ; When louder yet , and yet more dread , Swells ...
... heaven and earth shall pass away , What power shall be the sinner's stay ? How shall he meet that dreadful day ? When , shriveling like a parched scroll , The flaming heavens together roll ; When louder yet , and yet more dread , Swells ...
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ancient arms band bard Barnard Castle battle battle of Methven beneath blood blood-hound bold Border bower brave breast brow Bruce called castle chief clan courser dark death deep Deloraine Douglas dread Earl Earl of Angus English Ettrick Forest fair falchion fame fear fell fight fire gallant gave grace grey hall hand harp hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Highland hill holy horse hound Isles James John King knight lady land light Loch Katrine Lord Marmion Lorn loud maid mark'd minstrel monarch Mortham moss-troopers mountain ne'er noble Norham NOTE o'er pass'd pride Risingham rock Rokeby round rude Saint Scotland Scott Scottish Scottish Border seem'd show'd slain song sought sound spear steed stern stone stood sword tale tell thee thine Thomas the Rhymer thou tide tower turn'd Twas warriors wave ween wild
Populära avsnitt
Sida 39 - 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.
Sida 142 - River where ford there was none : But ere he alighted at Netherby gate The bride had consented, the gallant came late : For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
Sida 143 - The bride kissed the goblet: the knight took it up, He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar, — " Now tread we a measure !
Sida 142 - O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?" "I long woo'd 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.
Sida 160 - I tell thee, thou'rt defied ! And if thou said'st, I am not peer To any lord in Scotland here, Lowland or Highland, far or near, Lord Angus, thou hast lied...
Sida 143 - 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,
Sida 143 - mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran: There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see, So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?
Sida 142 - Among bride's-men, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all: Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word,) 'O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar...
Sida 768 - Proud Maisie is in the wood, Walking so early; Sweet Robin sits on the bush, Singing so rarely. " 'Tell me, thou bonny bird, When shall I marry me?' 'When six braw gentlemen Kirkward shall carry ye.' * * * " 'Who makes the bridal bed, Birdie, say truly?' 'The gray-headed sexton That delves the grave duly.' * * * "The glow-worm o'er grave and stone Shall light thee steady; The owl from the steeple sing, 'Welcome, proud lady.
Sida 31 - CALL it not vain : — they do not err, Who say, that when the Poet dies, Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, And celebrates his obsequies : Who say, tall cliff, and cavern lone, For the departed Bard make moan ; That mountains weep in crystal rill ; That flowers in tears of balm distil ; Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, And oaks, in deeper groan, reply ; And rivers teach their rushing wave To murmur dirges round his grave.