The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Baronet

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Страница 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
Страница 210 - 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
Страница 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,
Страница 289 - 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
Страница 220 - 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,
Страница 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.
Страница 221 - 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.
Страница 295 - 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
Страница 294 - 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,
Страница 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.

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