The Lady of the Lake
University publishing Company, 1896 - 184 páginas
A narrative poem by Sir Walter Scott, first published in 1810. Set in the Trossachs region of Scotland, it is composed of six cantos, each of which concerns the action of a single day.
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60 cents arms band battle bear Biographical Sketch blade blood bold brand brave bright brow called CANTO cents chase Chief Chieftain claim clan close Cross danger dark deep Douglas dread dream drew Ellen fair fear feel Fitz-James gave give glance glen grace gray guard half hand harp head hear heard heart heaven held Highland hill hold Illustrations James John King knight Lady lake land light living Loch look Lord lost loud maid maiden marked minstrel morning mountain noble Notes o'er once pass plaid Poems Portrait pride rest rock Roderick rose round Scott seemed side soon sought sound speed stand step stood story strain stranger tear tell thee thine thou thought tide Till took true turned volume wake Walter wave wild wind young
Página 257 - At once there rose so wild a yell Within that dark and narrow dell, As all the fiends, from heaven that fell, Had pealed the banner-cry of hell...
Página 215 - Then gleamed aloft his dagger bright ! But hate and fury ill supplied The stream of life's exhausted tide, And all too late the advantage came, To turn the odds of deadly game : For, while the dagger gleamed on high, Reeled soul and sense, reeled brain and eye. Down came the blow ! but in the heath The erring blade found bloodless sheath.
Página 207 - His back against a rock he bore, And firmly placed his foot before : — "Come one, come all ! this rock shall fly From its firm base as soon as I.
Página 208 - Fitz-James looked round — yet scarce believed The witness that his sight received ; Such apparition well might seem Delusion of a dreadful dream. Sir Roderick in suspense he eyed, And to his look the Chief replied, " Fear nought — nay, that I need not say — But — doubt not aught from mine array.
Página 204 - For fattened steer or household bread, Ask we for flocks these shingles dry, And well the mountain might reply, — ' To you, as to your sires of yore, Belong the target and claymore ! VIT. I give you shelter in my breast, Your own good blades must win the rest.
Página 41 - The antlered monarch of the waste Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. But, ere his fleet career he took, The dewdrops from his flanks he shook ; Like crested leader proud and high...
Página 206 - Instant, through copse and heath, arose Bonnets and spears and bended bows ; On right, on left, above, below, Sprung up at once the lurking foe ; From shingles...
Página 48 - The western waves of ebbing day Rolled o'er the glen their level way; Each purple peak, each flinty spire, Was bathed in floods of living fire. But not a setting beam could glow Within the dark ravines below, Where twined the path, in shadow hid, Round many a rocky pyramid, Shooting abruptly from the dell Its thunder-splintered pinnacle...