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The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott: With Memoir and Critical ...
Sir Walter Scott,George Gilfillan
Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2015
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Side 63 - And by your palfrey good, I read you for a ranger sworn To keep the king's greenwood." " A Ranger, lady, winds his horn, And 'tis at peep of light; His blast is heard at merry morn, And mine at dead of night.
Side 287 - Merrily, merrily, goes the bark On a breeze from the northward free, So shoots through the morning sky the lark, Or the swan through the summer sea. The shores of Mull on the eastward lay, And Ulva dark and Colonsay, And all the group of islets gay That guard famed Staffa round.
Side 288 - Nature herself, it seem'd, would raise A Minster to her Maker's praise ! Not for a meaner use ascend Her columns, or her arches bend ; Nor of a theme less solemn tells That mighty surge that ebbs and swells, And still, between each awful pause, From the high vault an answer draws, In varied tone prolonged and high, That mocks the organ's melody.
Side 266 - Nor tree, nor shrub, nor plant, nor flower, Nor aught of vegetative power, The weary eye may ken. For all is rocks at random thrown, Black waves, bare crags, and banks of stone...
Side 72 - The Baron of Ravensworth prances in pride, And he views his domains upon Arkindale side. The mere for his net and the land for his game, The chase for the wild and the park for the tame : Yet the fish of the lake and the deer of the vale Are less free to Lord Dacre than Allen-aDale!
Side 73 - shows gallanter still ; 'Tis the blue vault of heaven, with its crescent so pale, And with all its bright spangles!
Side 287 - Where, as to shame the temples decked By skill of earthly architect, Nature herself, it seemed, would raise A minster to her Maker's praise : Not for a meaner use ascend Her columns, or her arches bend ; Nor of a theme less solemn tells That mighty surge that ebbs and...
Side 100 - The sultry summer day is done. The western hills have hid the sun, But mountain peak and village spire Retain reflection of his fire.
Side 289 - Scarba's isle, whose tortured shore Still rings to Corrievreken's roar, And lonely Colonsay ; — Scenes sung by him who sings no more ! His bright and brief career is o'er, And mute his tuneful strains ; Quench'd is his lamp of varied lore, That loved the light of song to pour ; A distant and a deadly shore Has LEYDEN'S cold remains ! XII.
Side 190 - ... former customes of the countrey inviolable, and to deliver up the succession peaceably to his Tanist, and then hath a wand delivered unto him by some whose proper office that is ; after which, descending from the stone, he turneth himself round, thrice forwards and thrice backwards. " Eudox. But how is the Tanist chosen ? " Iren. They say he setteth but one foot upon the stone, and receiveth the like oath that the captaine did.