ancient Argentine arms bade band banner bard Barnard Castle battle beneath Bertram blood bold brave breast Brignall brow Bruce castle chase dark death deep dread Earl Edward Bruce fair faith fame fate fear fell fierce fight flame gallant gave glance grey Grey Brother hall hand Harold harp hast hath head hear heard heart Heaven Hougomont hour isle King lady land light Lord Lorn loud maid mark'd Matilda mingled minstrel morn Mortham mountain ne'er night noble o'er O'Neale pale pibroch pride Redmond Risingham Rokeby Rokeby's Ronald round Saint scene Scotland Scottish seem'd shore shout Sir Walter Scott slain song sought soul sound spear steed stern stood sword tale tell thee thine thou tide tower turn'd Twas voice wake wave Waverley Novels ween Western Isles wild Wilfrid wind youth
Page 101 - Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses; whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future predominate over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings. Far from me and from my friends, be such frigid philosophy as may conduct us indifferent and unmoved over any ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. That man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins...
Page 220 - With death-shot glowing in his fiery hands, And eye that scorcheth all it glares upon ; Restless it rolls, now fix'd and now anon Flashing afar, — and at his iron feet Destruction cowers, to mark what deeds are done ; For on this morn three potent nations meet, To shed before his shrine the blood he deems most sweet.
Page 100 - Where, as to shame the temples deck'd By skill of earthly architect, 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.
Page 396 - For, faithful in death, his mute favourite attended, The much-loved remains of her master defended, And chased the hill-fox and the raven away. "How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber? When the wind waved his garments how oft didst thou start?
Page 99 - 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.
Page 327 - Come away, come away, Hark to the summons ! Come in your war array, Gentles and commons. Come from deep glen, and From mountain so rocky, The war-pipe and pennon Are at Inverlochy. Come every hill-plaid, and True heart that wears one, Come every steel blade, and Strong hand that bears one.
Page 70 - Through the rude bosom of the hill, And that each naked precipice, Sable ravine, and dark abyss, Tells of the outrage still. The wildest glen, but this, can show Some touch of Nature's genial glow ; On high Benmore green mosses grow, And heath-bells bud in deep Glencroe, And copse on Cruchan-Ben ; But here,— above, around, below, On mountain or in glen, VOL.
Page 72 - He who ascends to mountain-tops shall find The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow ; He who surpasses or subdues mankind Must look down on the hate of those below. Though high above the sun of glory glow, And far beneath the earth and ocean spread, Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow . Contending tempests on his naked head...
Page 220 - They shall run like mighty men; they shall climb the wall like men of war; and they shall march every one on his ways, and they shall not break their ranks: neither shall one thrust another; they shall walk every one in his path: and when they fall upon the sword, they shall not be wounded.
Page 129 - Allen-a-Dale has red gold for the winning. Come, read me my riddle ! come, hearken my tale ! And tell me the craft of bold Allen-a-Dale. 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...