The novels of sir Walter Scott, with all his introductions and notes, Том 1

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Страница 198 - They live no longer in the faith of reason! But still the heart doth need a language, still Doth the old instinct bring back the old names, And to yon starry world they now are gone, Spirits or gods, that used to share this earth With man as with their friend...
Страница 205 - Many murders have been discovered among them; and they are not only a most unspeakable oppression to poor tenants (who if they give not bread, or some kind of provision to perhaps forty such villains in one day, are sure to be insulted by them) but they rob many poor people who live in houses distant from any neighbourhood.
Страница 209 - I am wishing ill to little Harry, or to the babe that's yet to be born — God forbid — and make them kind to the poor, and better folk than their father — And now, ride e'en your ways; for these are the last words ye'll ever hear Meg Merrilies speak, and this is the last reise that I'll ever cut in the bonny woods of Ellangowan.
Страница 177 - Sabbath) in some gay company, and had an unhappy assignation with a married woman, whom he was to attend exactly at twelve. The company broke up about eleven ; and not judging it convenient to anticipate the time appointed, he went into his chamber to kill the tedious hour, perhaps with some amusing book, or some other way. But it very accidentally happened, that he took up a religious book, which his good mother or aunt had, without his knowledge, slipped into his portmanteau.
Страница 49 - Hie away, hie away, Over bank and over brae, Where the copsewood is the greenest, Where the fountains glisten sheenest, Where the lady-fern grows strongest, Where the morning dew lies longest, Where the black-cock sweetest sips it, Where the fairy latest trips it : Hie to haunts right seldom seen, Lovely, lonesome, cool and green, Over bank and over brae, Hie away, hie away. " Do the verses he sings," asked Waverley, " belong to old Scottish poetry, Miss Bradwardine ? " "I believe not,
Страница 208 - Ride your ways," said the gipsy, "ride your ways, Laird of Ellangowan — ride your ways, Godfrey Bertram ! — -This day have ye quenched seven smoking hearths — see if the fire in your ain parlour burn the blither for that. Ye have riven the thack off seven cottar houses — look if your ain roof-tree stand the faster. — Ye may stable your stirks in the shealings at Derncleugh — see that the hare does not couch on the hearthstane at Ellangowan. — Ride your ways, Godfrey Bertram — what...
Страница 150 - These reveries he was permitted to enjoy, undisturbed by queries or interruption ; and it was in many a winter walk by the shores of Ulswater that he acquired a more complete mastery of a spirit tamed by adversity than his former experience had given him ; and that he felt himself entitled to say firmly, though perhaps with a sigh, that the romance of his life was ended, and that its real history had now commenced.
Страница 198 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, The fair humanities of old religion, The power, the beauty, and the majesty, That had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, Or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring. Or chasms and wat'ry depths ; all these have vanished They live no longer in the faith of reason...
Страница 363 - Still, however, his dying splendour gave a sombre magnificence to the massive congregation of vapours, forming out of their unsubstantial gloom the show of pyramids and towers, some touched with gold, some with purple, some with a hue of deep and dark red. The distant sea, stretched beneath this varied and gorgeous canopy, lay almost portentously still, reflecting back the dazzling and level beams of the descending luminary, and the splendid colouring of the clouds amidst which he was setting. Nearer...

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