The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Baronet, Volume 6A. Constable, 1821 |
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Page 30
... Saint George's banner , broad and gay , Now faded , as the fading ray Less bright , and less , was flung ; The evening gale had scarce the power To wave it on the Donjon Tower , So heavily it hung . The scouts had parted on their search ...
... Saint George's banner , broad and gay , Now faded , as the fading ray Less bright , and less , was flung ; The evening gale had scarce the power To wave it on the Donjon Tower , So heavily it hung . The scouts had parted on their search ...
Page 42
... Saint George ! a stirring life they lead , " That have such neighbours near . " Then stay with us a little space , " Our northern wars to learn ; " I pray you for your lady's grace ! " - Lord Marmion's brow grew stern . XV . The Captain ...
... Saint George ! a stirring life they lead , " That have such neighbours near . " Then stay with us a little space , " Our northern wars to learn ; " I pray you for your lady's grace ! " - Lord Marmion's brow grew stern . XV . The Captain ...
Page 52
... . " To stout Saint George of Norwich merry , " Saint Thomas , too , of Canterbury , " Cuthbert of Durham and Saint Bede , " For his sins ' pardon hath he pray'd . " He knows the passes of the North , " 52 Canto I. MARMION .
... . " To stout Saint George of Norwich merry , " Saint Thomas , too , of Canterbury , " Cuthbert of Durham and Saint Bede , " For his sins ' pardon hath he pray'd . " He knows the passes of the North , " 52 Canto I. MARMION .
Page 163
... Saint George to speed ! " If he go down , thou soon shalt know " Whate'er these airy sprites can shew ; " If thy heart fail thee in the strife , " I am no warrant for thy life . " XXIII . " Soon as the midnight bell did ring ...
... Saint George to speed ! " If he go down , thou soon shalt know " Whate'er these airy sprites can shew ; " If thy heart fail thee in the strife , " I am no warrant for thy life . " XXIII . " Soon as the midnight bell did ring ...
Page 170
Walter Scott. ΧΧΙΧ . " Did'st never , good my youth , hear tell , " That on the hour when I was born , " St George , who graced my sire's chapelle , " Down from his steed of marble fell , " A weary wight forlorn ? " The flattering ...
Walter Scott. ΧΧΙΧ . " Did'st never , good my youth , hear tell , " That on the hour when I was born , " St George , who graced my sire's chapelle , " Down from his steed of marble fell , " A weary wight forlorn ? " The flattering ...
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Common terms and phrases
Abbess ancient Angus arms band battle beneath blast bold Border called CANTO castle chapel Clare Cuthbert dame dark deep Douglas e'er Earl Earl of Angus Earl of Mar Edinburgh England English fair falcon fear fell fight Fitz-Eustace Flodden foes gallant grace grave Guenever hall hand hath head hear heard heart heaven Hilda hill holy Holy Island horse host hour James IV King James King's knight Lady land light Lindesay Lindisfarn Lord Marmion loud maid mark'd merry minstrel Monarch monks mountain ne'er noble Norham Norham Castle Northumberland Note nought o'er Palmer pass'd Perchance Pitscottie plain prayer rest rode round royal rude Saint Saint George scarce Scotland Scottish seem'd shield Sir David Sir Launcelot sound spear squire St Cuthbert steed stood Surrey sword tale Tamworth Tantallon tell thee thou thought tide tower Twas Whitby Whitby's wild Wilton
Popular passages
Page 227 - With gloomy splendour red ; For on the smoke-wreaths, huge and slow, That round her sable turrets flow, The morning beams were shed, And tinged them with a lustre proud, Like that which streaks a thunder-cloud. Such dusky grandeur clothed the height, Where the huge castle holds its state, And all the steep slope down Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky, Piled deep and massy, close and high, Mine own romantic town...
Page 268 - So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; And the bride-maidens whispered, " Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.
Page 377 - Though bill-men ply the ghastly blow, Unbroken was the ring ; The stubborn spear-men still made good Their dark impenetrable wood, Each stepping where his comrade stood, The instant that he fell.
Page 266 - 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.
Page 345 - Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, And shook his very frame for ire. "And this to me !" he said ; "An 'twere not for thy hoary beard, Such hand as Marmion's had not spared To cleave the Douglas
Page 10 - So feeble trill'd the streamlet through : Now, murmuring hoarse, and frequent seen, Through bush and brier, no longer green, An angry brook, it sweeps the glade, Brawls over rock and wild cascade, And, foaming brown with doubled speed, Hurries its waters to the Tweed.
Page 373 - In vain for Constance is your zeal ; She died at Holy Isle."— Lord Marmion started from the ground, As light as if he felt no wound ; Though in the action burst the tide, In torrents, from his wounded side. " Then it was truth," he said — " I knew That the dark presage must be true.— I would the Fiend, to whom belongs The vengeance due to all her wrongs, Would spare me but a day ! For wasting fire, and dying groan, And priests slain on the altar stone, Might bribe him for delay.
Page 346 - I tell thee, thou'rt defied ! And if thou said'st I am not peer To any lord in Scotland here, Lowland or Highland, far or near, Lord Angus, thou hast lied...
Page 151 - Where shall the traitor rest, He, the deceiver, Who could win maiden's breast, Ruin, and leave her ? In the lost battle, Borne down by the flying, Where mingles war's rattle With groans of the dying ; Eleu loro There shall he be lying.
Page 346 - Lord Marmion turned — well was his need — And dashed the rowels in his steed, Like arrow through the archway sprung, The ponderous grate behind him rung; To pass there was such scanty room, The bars descending razed his plume.