The poetical works of sir Walter Scott. Ed., with a critical memoir, by W.M. Rossetti. Illustr

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1882
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Trang 145 - O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best, And save his good broad-sword 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.
Trang 15 - The moon on the east oriel shone Through slender shafts of shapely stone, By foliaged tracery combined; Thou wouldst have thought some fairy's hand 'Twixt poplars straight the osier wand In many a freakish knot had twined; Then framed a spell, when the work was done, And changed the willow wreaths to stone.
Trang 61 - And glimmered all the dead men's mail. Blazed battlement and pinnet high, Blazed every rose-carved buttress fair — So still they blaze, when fate is nigh The lordly line of high St Clair.
Trang 192 - 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 ; Round many an insulated mass, The native bulwarks of the pass, Huge as the tower which builders vain Presumptuous piled on Shinar's plain.
Trang 145 - 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.
Trang 173 - Not lighter does the swallow skim Along the smooth lake's level brim: And when Lord Marmion reached his band, He halts, and turns with clenched hand, And shout of loud defiance pours, And shook his gauntlet at the towers. ' Horse ! horse ! ' the Douglas cried, ' and chase ! ' But soon he reined his fury's pace: ' A royal messenger he came, Though most unworthy of the name.
Trang 189 - Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. But ere his fleet career he took, The dew-drops from his flanks he shook; Like crested leader proud and high Tossed his beamed frontlet to the sky; A moment gazed adown the dale, A moment snuffed the tainted gale, A moment listened to the cry, That thickened as the chase drew nigh; Then, as the headmost foes appeared, With one brave bound the copse he cleared, And, stretching forward free and far, Sought the wild heaths of Uam-Var.
Trang 195 - 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 train'd her pace, — A foot more light, a step more true, Ne'er from the heath-flower dash'd the dew; E'en...
Trang 179 - Rushed with bare bosom on the spear, And flung the feeble targe aside, And with both hands the broadsword plied, 'Twas vain: — But Fortune, on the right, With fickle smile, cheered Scotland's fight.
Trang 193 - And now, to issue from the glen, No pathway meets the wanderer's ken. Unless he climb, with footing nice, A far projecting precipice. The broom's tough roots his ladder made, The hazel saplings lent their aid...

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