The Lady of the Lake

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University publishing Company, 1896 - 191 páginas
 

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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 213 - Then each at once his falchion drew, Each on the ground his scabbard threw, Each looked to sun, and stream, and plain, As what they ne'er might see again ; Then, foot, and point, and eye opposed, In dubious strife they darkly closed.
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...
Página 149 - But he who stems a stream with sand, And fetters flame with flaxen band, Has yet a harder task to prove — By firm resolve to conquer love...

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