The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Baronet, Volume 7A. Constable, 1821 - English poetry |
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Page 29
... Chieftain's daughter seem'd the maid ; Her satin snood , her silken plaid , Her golden brooch , such birth betray'd . And seldom was a snood amid Such wild luxuriant ringlets hid , Whose glossy black to shame might bring The plumage of ...
... Chieftain's daughter seem'd the maid ; Her satin snood , her silken plaid , Her golden brooch , such birth betray'd . And seldom was a snood amid Such wild luxuriant ringlets hid , Whose glossy black to shame might bring The plumage of ...
Page 66
... silken thread , " Slave of thy will , this chieftain dread , " Yet , O loved maid , thy mirth refrain ! 66 Thy hand is on a lion's mane . " XIII . " Minstrel , " the maid replied , 66 Canto II . THE LADY OF THE LAKE .
... silken thread , " Slave of thy will , this chieftain dread , " Yet , O loved maid , thy mirth refrain ! 66 Thy hand is on a lion's mane . " XIII . " Minstrel , " the maid replied , 66 Canto II . THE LADY OF THE LAKE .
Page 67
... chieftain son , from ire " Of Scotland's King who shrouds my sire , " A deeper , holier debt is owed ; pay it with my blood , " And , could I pay " Allan ! Sir Roderick should command 66 My blood , my life , -but not my hand . " Rather ...
... chieftain son , from ire " Of Scotland's King who shrouds my sire , " A deeper , holier debt is owed ; pay it with my blood , " And , could I pay " Allan ! Sir Roderick should command 66 My blood , my life , -but not my hand . " Rather ...
Page 74
... they slept , a vocal strain Bade their hoarse chorus wake again , While loud a hundred clans - men raise Their voices in their Chieftain's praise . Each boat - man , bending to his oar , 74 THE LADY OF THE LAKE . Canto II .
... they slept , a vocal strain Bade their hoarse chorus wake again , While loud a hundred clans - men raise Their voices in their Chieftain's praise . Each boat - man , bending to his oar , 74 THE LADY OF THE LAKE . Canto II .
Page 78
Walter Scott. As echoing back with shrill acclaim , And chorus wild , the Chieftain's name ; While , prompt to please , with mother's art , The ardling passion of his heart , The Dame call'd Ellen to the strand , To greet her kinsman ere ...
Walter Scott. As echoing back with shrill acclaim , And chorus wild , the Chieftain's name ; While , prompt to please , with mother's art , The ardling passion of his heart , The Dame call'd Ellen to the strand , To greet her kinsman ere ...
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Common terms and phrases
agen arms band bard battle blade blood bold brand Brantome brave breast broad-sword brow called CANTO castle chase Chieftain clan Clan-Alpine's Dæmon dark deep deer Douglas dread Duergar Earl of Angus Ellen fair fairy fear Fiery Cross Fitz-James Gael gallant glance glen grace Græme grey hand harp hast hear heard heart heath heaven Highland hill hounds isle James John Gunn King King's Kintail LADY lake land Lord loud Macgregor maid maiden Malcolm Malise merry midnight Minstrel morning mountain ne'er night noble Note o'er pibroch plaid pride rock Roderick Dhu round Rowland Yorke Saint Modan Saxon Scotland Scottish seem'd shallop side sire Skofnung snood song sound spear speed stag steed Stirling Stirling Castle stood stranger sword tear thee thine thou tide turn'd Twas Urisk wake warrior wave western isles wild wind yonder
Popular passages
Page 29 - her pace,— A foot more light, a step more true, Ne'er from the heath-flower dash'd the dew ; E'en the slight hare-bell raised its head, Elastic from her airy tread : What though upon her speech there hung The accents of the mountain tongue,— Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear, The
Page 212 - From crag to crag the signal flew. 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 grey their lances start, The bracken bush sends forth the dart, The rushes and the willow-wand Are
Page 75 - Honour'd and bless'd be the ever-green Pine ! Long may the tree in his banner that glances, Flourish, the shelter and grace of our line! Heaven send it happy dew, Earth lend it sap anew, Gayly to bourgeon, and broadly to grow, While every Highland glen Sends our shout back agen,
Page 291 - XXVII. 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 choaking voice commands,— She show'd the ring—she clasp'd her hands. O! not a moment could he brook, The generous Prince, that suppliant look
Page 222 - aside; For, train'd abroad his arms to wield, Fitz-James's blade was sword and shield. He practised every pass and ward, To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard; While less expert, though stronger far. The Gael maintain'd unequal war. Three times in closing strife they stood, And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood : No stinted draught,
Page 20 - Its thunder-splinter'd pinnacle; Round many an insulated mass, The native bulwarks of the pass, Huge as the tower which builders vain Presumptuous piled on Shinar's plain. The rocky summits, split and rent, Form'd turret, dome, or battlement, Or seem'd fantastically set With cupola or minaret, Wild crests as paged ever deck'd, Or mosque of eastern architect.
Page 223 - throat he sprung; Received, but reck'd not of a wound, And lock'd his arms his foeman round.— Now, gallant Saxon, hold thine own ! No maiden's hand is round thee thrown! That desperate grasp thy frame might feel, Through bars of brass and triple steel I—- They tug, they strain !—down, down, they go, The Gael above, Fitz-James below.
Page 297 - i Yet, once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp ! Yet, once again, forgive my feeble sway, And little reck I of the censure sharp May idly cavil at an idle lay. Much have I owed thy strains on life's long way, Through secret woes the world has never known, When on the weary night dawn'd wearier day, And bitterer
Page 296 - His chain of gold the King unstrung, The links o'er Malcolm's neck he flung, Then gently drew the glittering band, And laid the clasp on Ellen's hand. HAEP of the North, farewell! The hills grow dark, On purple peaks a deeper shade descending; In twilight copse the glow-worm lights her spark, The deer,
Page 168 - Is lost for love of you ; " And we must hold by wood and wold, " As outlaws wont to do. " O Alice, 'twas all for thy locks so bright, " And 'twas all for thine eyes so blue, " That on the night of our luckless flight, " Thy brother bold I slew. • Thrush.