The poetical works of Walter Scott, Volume 5 |
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Page 59
... Græme . ” - Scarce from her lip the word had rush'd , When deep the conscious maiden blush'd ; For of his clan , in hall and bower , Young Malcolm Græme was held the flower . VII . The Minstrel waked his harp - three times Canto 11 . 59 ...
... Græme . ” - Scarce from her lip the word had rush'd , When deep the conscious maiden blush'd ; For of his clan , in hall and bower , Young Malcolm Græme was held the flower . VII . The Minstrel waked his harp - three times Canto 11 . 59 ...
Page 70
... , wave not thy disdainful head ! Bethink thee of the discord dread That kindled when at Beltane game Thou ledst the dance with Malcolm Græme ; Still , though thy sire the peace renew'd , Smoulders 70 Canto II . THE LADY OF THE LAKE .
... , wave not thy disdainful head ! Bethink thee of the discord dread That kindled when at Beltane game Thou ledst the dance with Malcolm Græme ; Still , though thy sire the peace renew'd , Smoulders 70 Canto II . THE LADY OF THE LAKE .
Page 80
... Græme . XXIII . Allan , with wistful look the while , Mark'd Roderick landing on the isle ; His master piteously he eyed , ; Then gazed upon the chieftain's pride , Then dash'd , with hasty hand , away From his dimm'd eye the gathering ...
... Græme . XXIII . Allan , with wistful look the while , Mark'd Roderick landing on the isle ; His master piteously he eyed , ; Then gazed upon the chieftain's pride , Then dash'd , with hasty hand , away From his dimm'd eye the gathering ...
Page 82
... stole , The fond enthusiast sent his soul . XXV . Of stature tall , and slender frame , But firmly knit , was Malcolm Græme . The belted plaid and tartan hose Did ne'er more graceful 82 Canto II . THE LADY OF THE LAKE .
... stole , The fond enthusiast sent his soul . XXV . Of stature tall , and slender frame , But firmly knit , was Malcolm Græme . The belted plaid and tartan hose Did ne'er more graceful 82 Canto II . THE LADY OF THE LAKE .
Page 84
... Græme . XXVI . Now back they wend their watery way , And , 66 " O my sire ! " did Ellen say , Why urge thy chase so far astray ? And why so late return'd ? And why " - The rest was in her speaking eye . 66 My child , the chase I follow ...
... Græme . XXVI . Now back they wend their watery way , And , 66 " O my sire ! " did Ellen say , Why urge thy chase so far astray ? And why so late return'd ? And why " - The rest was in her speaking eye . 66 My child , the chase I follow ...
Common terms and phrases
agen Allan Alpine's ancient Angus aught bagpipe bard battle Bevis of Hampton blade blood bold brand brave breast broad-sword brow called CANTO chase chief Chieftain clan Clan-Alpine's cliff Coronach crest Dæmon death deep Douglas dread dream e'er Earl of Angus Ellen Ettrick forest fairy fear Fiery Cross fire Fitz-James friendly band friends gallant glance glen grace grey hand harp head hear heard heart heath hench-man Highland hill hounds hunting king LADY lake land Loch-Katrine Lord loud Macgregor maid maiden Malcolm Græme Malise martial midnight mingled minstrel morning mountain ne'er night Note o'er Perthshire pibroch plaid pride rest rock Roderick Dhu Saint Modan Scotland Scottish seem'd shallop side sire Skofnung sleep smiled snood song sounds speed stag steed stood stranger sword sylvan tear thee thine thou toil turn'd Twas Tynedale Urisk vision wake wave wild wind youth
Popular passages
Page 128 - He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font, reappearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest.
Page 48 - Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking ; Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest ! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more : Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
Page 49 - No rude sound shall reach thine ear, Armour's clang, or war-steed champing Trump nor pibroch summon here Mustering clan, or squadron tramping. Yet the lark's shrill fife may come At the daybreak from the fallow, And the bittern sound his drum, Booming from the sedgy shallow. Ruder sounds shall none be near, Guards nor warders challenge here, Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing, Shouting clans, or squadrons stamping.
Page 80 - Moor'd in the rifted rock, Proof to the tempest's shock, Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow; Menteith and Breadalbane, then, Echo his praise agen, Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
Page 81 - Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho ! ieroe ! Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the Highlands ! Stretch to your oars, for the evergreen Pine...
Page 208 - ... seen above the middle, death is not to be expected for the space of a year, and perhaps some months longer ; and as it is frequently seen to ascend higher towards the head, death is concluded to be at hand within a few days, if not hours, as daily experience confirms.
Page 207 - At the sight of a vision, the eyelids of the person are erected, and the eyes continue staring until the object vanish. This is obvious to others who are by, when the persons happen to see a vision, and occurred more than once to my own observation, and to others that were with me.
Page 23 - And turned him from the opposing rock ; Then, dashing down a darksome glen, Soon lost to hound and hunter's ken, In the deep Trosach's wildest nook His solitary refuge took.
Page 107 - TIME rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore, Who danced our infancy upon their knee, And told our marvelling boyhood legends store Of their strange ventures happed by land or sea, How are they blotted from the things that be!
Page 17 - The Stag at eve had drunk his fill, Where danced the moon on Monan's rill...