The Lady of the Lake

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American Book Company, 1893 - 192 páginas
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Página 43 - 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.
Página 31 - In all her length far winding lay, With promontory, creek, and bay, And islands that, empurpled bright. Floated amid the livelier light, And mountains that like giants stand To sentinel enchanted land. High on the south, huge Benvenue Down to the lake in masses threw Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurled, The fragments of an earlier world ; A wildering forest feathered o'er His ruined sides and summit hoar, While on the north, through middle air, Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare.
Página 28 - The western waves of ebbing day Roll'd 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...
Página 30 - Where glistening streamers waved and danced, The wanderer's eye could barely view The summer heaven's delicious blue; So wondrous wild, the whole might seem The scenery of a fairy dream.
Página 34 - And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, Of finer form, or lovelier face ! What though the sun, with ardent frown, Had slightly tinged her cheek with brown — The sportive toil, which, short and light. Had dyed her glowing hue so bright, Served too in hastier swell to show Short glimpses of a breast of snow ; What though no rule of courtly grace To measured mood had...
Página 187 - Resume thy wizard elm! the fountain lending, And the wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy; Thy numbers sweet with nature's vespers blending, With distant echo from the fold and lea, And herd-boy's evening pipe, and hum of housing bee. Yet, once again, farewell, thou Minstrel Harp! Yet, once again, forgive my feeble sway, And little reck I of the censure sharp May idly cavil at an idle lay.
Página 97 - The heath this night must be my bed, The bracken* curtain for my head, My lullaby the warder's tread, Far, far, from love and thee, Mary ; To-morrow eve, more stilly laid, My couch may be my bloody plaid, My vesper song, thy wail, sweet maid...
Página 63 - And Bannochar's groans to our slogan replied; Glen Luss and Ross-dhu, they are smoking in ruin, And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side, Widow and Saxon maid Long shall lament our raid, Think of...
Página 64 - Some feelings are to mortals given, With less of earth in them than heaven : And if there be a human tear From passion's dross refined and clear, A tear so limpid and so meek, It would not stain an angel's cheek, 'Tis that which pious fathers shed Upon a duteous daughter's head...
Página 35 - Such wild luxuriant ringlets hid, Whose glossy black to shame might bring The plumage of the raven's wing ; And seldom o'er a breast so fair, Mantled a plaid with modest care ; And never brooch the folds combined Above a heart more good and kind. Her kindness and her worth to spy, You need but gaze on Ellen's eye ; Not Katrine, in her mirror blue, Gives back the shaggy banks more true...

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