Dryburgh Abbey, Its Monks and Its Lords

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the author, 1864 - 48 páginas
 

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Página 48 - And for evermore that lady wore A covering on her wrist. There is a nun in Dryburgh bower, Ne'er looks upon the sun; There is a monk in Melrose tower, He speaketh word to none. That nun, who ne'er beholds...
Página 42 - But it was not English gore. He lighted at the Chapellage, He held him close and still ; And he whistled thrice for his little foot-page, His name was English Will.
Página 44 - Thou shouldst not say me nay ; For the eve is sweet, and when lovers meet, Is worth the whole summer's day.
Página 48 - How, Richard, hast thou sped ? And art thou saved, or art thou lost ? " — The vision shook his head ! " Who spilleth life, shall forfeit life; So bid thy lord believe: That lawless love is guilt above, This awful sign receive.
Página 45 - He turn'd him around, and grimly he frown'd, Then he laugh'd right scornfully — 'He who says the mass rite, for the soul of that knight, May as well say mass for me. At the lone midnight hour, when bad spirits have power, In thy chamber will I be.' With that he was gone, and my Lady left alone, And no more did I see.
Página 43 - My lady, each night, sought the lonely light, That burns on the wild Watchfold ; For, from height to height, the beacons bright Of the English foemen told. " The bittern clamour'd from the moss, The wind blew loud and shrill ; Yet the craggy pathway she did cross To the eiry Beacon Hill. " I watched her steps, and silent came Where she sat her on a stone ; — No watchman stood by the dreary flame, It burned all alone. ' ' The second night I kept her in sight, Till to the fire she came, And, by Mary's...
Página 45 - The bold baron's brow then changed, I trow, From high blood-red to pale — "The grave is deep and dark — and the corpse is stiff and stark — So I may not trust thy tale. "Where fair Tweed flows round holy Melrose, And Eildon slopes to the plain, Full three nights ago by some secret foe That gay gallant was slain.
Página 46 - And oft to himself he said, — 'The worms around him creep, and his bloody grave is deep — It cannot give up the dead!
Página 45 - Yet hear but my word, my noble lord ! For I heard her name his name ; And that lady bright she called the knight Sir Richard of Coldinghame." The bold baron's brow then changed, I trow, From high blood-red to pale : " The grave is deep and dark — and the corpse is stiff and stark; So I may not trust thy tale. Where fair Tweed flows round holy Melrose...

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