Comentarios de la gente - Escribir un comentario
No encontramos ningún comentario en los lugares habituales.
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott: Including Introduction and Notes
Sir Walter Scott
Vista de fragmentos - 1882
The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott: With a Memoir of the Author, Volume 8
Sin vista previa disponible - 2016
arms band battle bear beneath blood bold bore bound brand brave breast bright brow castle Chief close dark dead death deep Douglas dread drew fair faith fame fear fell field fight fire gave give glance grace grey hall hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hill hold hour King knew knight lady land light living lone look Lord loud maid Marmion meet morning mountain ne'er never noble o'er once pale pass pride rest rock rose round Saint scarce scene seem'd seen side song soon sought soul sound spear spoke steed stern stood strain strange sword tale tear tell thee thine thou thought tide Till tower true Twas voice wake warrior wave wild wind wood young youth
Página 94 - Eske river where ford there was none ; But ere he alighted at Netherby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late; For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall...
Página 147 - From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest. Fleet foot on the correi...
Página 147 - He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font reappearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest.
Página 94 - Oh ! young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best ; And save his good broadsword he weapons had none, He rode all unarmed and he rode all alone. So faithful in love and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.
Página 455 - Waken, lords and ladies gay.' Waken, lords and ladies gay, To the greenwood haste away; We can show you where he lies, Fleet of foot and tall of size; We can show the marks he made When 'gainst the oak his antlers fray'd; You shall see him brought to bay;
Página 35 - From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim, — Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
Página 478 - A chain of gold ye sail not lack, Nor braid to bind your hair; Nor mettled hound, nor managed hawk, Nor palfrey fresh and fair ; And you, the foremost o' them a', Shall ride our forest queen" — But aye she loot the tears down fa
Página 679 - When the broken arches are black in night. And each shafted oriel glimmers white ; When the cold light's uncertain shower Streams on the ruined central tower ; When buttress and buttress, alternately, Seem framed of ebon and ivory ; When silver edges the imagery, And the scrolls that teach thee to live and die...
Página 15 - In peace, Love tunes the shepherd's reed; In war, he mounts the warrior's steed; In halls, in gay attire is seen; In hamlets, dances on the green. Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above ; For love is heaven, and heaven is love.
Página 166 - Yet think not that by thee alone, Proud Chief! can courtesy be shown ; Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn Start at my whistle clansmen stern, Of this small horn one feeble blast Would fearful odds against thee cast But fear not — doubt not — which thou wilt, We try this quarrel hilt to hilt...