Какво казват хората - Напишете рецензия
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arms band Bard Baron Beattison beneath blaze blood blood-hound bold Border bower Branksome Branksome Hall Branksome's towers breast Brodick Buccleuch bugle Carlisle wall castle chiefs clan coursers Cranstoun's cross'd Dacre dark dead dread Dwarf Eskdale Fair Margaret fair on Carlisle falchions Fcap fight gallant Galliard GIBRALTAR gift-book hall hand harp heard heart Howard illustrated iron knight Ladye Ladye's lances Liddesdale Loch Scavaig lofty lonely look'd Lord Cranstoun Lord Dacre loud mark'd Marmion Melrose Melrose Abbey Minstrel Monk morocco moss-trooper Musgrave ne'er NEWARK CASTLE noble Dame o'er pale pass'd photographs pray'd pride raven's nest ride rode roll'd round rung scarce Scott Scottish seem'd seen Seneschal song soul sound spear steed Stirling Castle stood stout stretch'd sun shines fair sung sword ta'en tale tear tell Teviot's tide thee thou Twas Twixt volume warriors Watt Tinlinn wave ween wild William of Deloraine
Страница 93 - ALL 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.
Страница 25 - When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die...
Страница 1 - Seemed to have known a better day; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by .an orphan boy. The last of all the Bards was he, Who sung of Border chivalry; For, well-a-day! their date was fled, His tuneful brethren all were dead; And he, neglected and oppressed...
Страница 117 - 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.
Страница 9 - Ten squires, ten yeomen, mail-clad men, Waited the beck of the warders ten ; Thirty steeds, both fleet and wight, Stood saddled in stable day and night, Barbed with frontlet of steel, I trow, And with Jedwood-axe at saddle-bow ; A hundred more fed free in stall : — Such was the custom of Branksome Hall.
Страница 47 - In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed; In war, he mounts the warrior's steed; In halls, in gay attire is seen; In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above ; For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
Страница 23 - IF thou would'st view fair Melrose aright, Go visit it by the pale moon-light; For the gay beams of lightsome day Gild, but to flout, the ruins gray. When the broken arches are black in night, And each shafted oriel glimmers white; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee...
Страница 29 - Showed many a prophet, and many a saint, Whose image on the glass was dyed ; Full in the midst, his Cross of Red Triumphant Michael brandished, And trampled the Apostate's pride. The moon-beam kissed the holy pane, And threw on the pavement a bloody stain.