Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Achray Allan Alpine's aught band battle Ben Lomond blade blood bold brand brave breast broadsword brow canto castle chase Chief Chieftain clan Clan-Alpine's crest dark deep deer Douglas Doune Doune Castle dread dream drew E. K. CHAMBERS Earl of Angus Ellen fate fear Fiery Fiery Cross Fitz-James Gael gallant glance glen grace gray guard hand harp hear heard heart heath heaven Highland hill hounds isle James King King's knight lady lake Lennox Loch Achray Loch Katrine Loch Lomond Lord loud maid maiden Malcolm Græme Malise martial merrymen minstrel morning mountain ne'er noble o'er pass pibroch plaid poem pride rock Roderick Dhu Saint Modan Saxon Scotland SCOTT Scottish shallop sire snood song sound spear speed stag steed Stirling Stirling Castle stood stranger sword tartan tear thee thine thou tide twas Vennachar warrior wave wild word yonder
Página 108 - 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 108 - That whistle garrison'd the glen At once with full five hundred men, As if the yawning hill to heaven A subterranean host had given. Watching their leader's beck and will, All silent there they stood, and still, Like the loose crags whose threatening mass Lay tottering o'er the hollow pass, As if an infant's touch could urge Their headlong passage down the verge, With step and weapon forward flung, Upon the mountain-side they hung.
Página 113 - Now, truce, farewell! and ruth begone! — 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.
Página 21 - Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done; While our slumbrous spells assail ye, Dream not, with the rising sun, Bugles here shall sound reveille. Sleep ! the deer is in his den ; Sleep! thy hounds are by thee lying: Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen How thy gallant steed lay dying. Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done; Think not of the rising sun, For at dawning to assail ye Here no bugles sound reveille.
Página 65 - 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 39 - 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 152 - On him each courtier's eye was bent ; Midst furs, and silks, and jewels sheen, He stood, in simple Lincoln green. The centre of the glittering ring. And Snowdoun's Knight is Scotland's King ! As wreath of snow, on mountain-breast, Slides from the rock that gave it rest, Poor Ellen glided from her stay, And at the Monarch's feet she lay ; No word her choking voice commands, — She show'd the ring, she clasp'd her hands.
Página 127 - Who o'er the herd would wish to reign, Fantastic, fickle, fierce, and vain ! Vain as the leaf upon the stream, And fickle as a changeful dream ; Fantastic as a woman's mood, And fierce as Frenzy's fever'd blood.