The Poetical Works of Sir Walter ScottA. and W. Galignani, 1831 - 490 σελίδες |
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Σελίδα xi
... living in a civilised age and country , retained so strong a tincture of manners belonging to an early period of society , must afford a subject favourable for romance , if it should not prove a curious tale marred in the telling ...
... living in a civilised age and country , retained so strong a tincture of manners belonging to an early period of society , must afford a subject favourable for romance , if it should not prove a curious tale marred in the telling ...
Σελίδα xv
... living in a simple and patri- manack of Charles the Second's time ( when archal state ; whereas it has more difficulty in every thing down to almanacks affected to be understanding or interesting itself in manners smart ) , in which the ...
... living in a simple and patri- manack of Charles the Second's time ( when archal state ; whereas it has more difficulty in every thing down to almanacks affected to be understanding or interesting itself in manners smart ) , in which the ...
Σελίδα xviii
... living poets . There was in it a very good imita- tion of my own style , which bore such a resem- blance to Harold the Dauntless ' , that there was no discovering the original from the imitation ; and I believe that many who took the ...
... living poets . There was in it a very good imita- tion of my own style , which bore such a resem- blance to Harold the Dauntless ' , that there was no discovering the original from the imitation ; and I believe that many who took the ...
Σελίδα xx
... living and breathing , and liar times , and expressed in language rich and felicitous , must be felt by the most obtuse intel- lect ; yet we are not sure that its success would be great on the stage , if for the stage it had ever been ...
... living and breathing , and liar times , and expressed in language rich and felicitous , must be felt by the most obtuse intel- lect ; yet we are not sure that its success would be great on the stage , if for the stage it had ever been ...
Σελίδα xxi
... living presentment of character , have rendered conceivable to this later age the miracles of the mighty dramatist . It will scarcely be expected that , in this rapid Shakspeare is , undoubtedly , more purely origi- sketch , we should ...
... living presentment of character , have rendered conceivable to this later age the miracles of the mighty dramatist . It will scarcely be expected that , in this rapid Shakspeare is , undoubtedly , more purely origi- sketch , we should ...
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Συχνά εμφανιζόμενοι όροι και φράσεις
ancient arms band bard battle battle of Methven beneath blood blood-hound bold Border Branksome brave breast brow Bruce called CANTO castle chief clan courser dark death deep Deloraine Douglas dread Earl Earl of Angus English Ettrick Forest fair falchion fame fear fell fight fire gallant glance glen grace gray hall hand harp hast hath head hear heard heart heaven Highland hill holy horse Isles James John king knight lady land light Loch Katrine Lord Lorn loud maid mark'd Marmion minstrel Mortham moss-troopers mountain ne'er noble Note o'er pass'd pride Risingham rock Roderick Rokeby round Saint scene Scotland Scots Scott Scottish seem'd Sir Walter Scott slain song sought sound spear Stanza steed stern stone stood SWINTON sword tale tell thee thine thou tide tower turn'd VIPONT wake warrior wave ween wild wind
Δημοφιλή αποσπάσματα
Σελίδα 138 - 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.
Σελίδα 126 - 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. In our isle's enchanted hall, Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, Fairy strains of music fall, Every sense in slumber dewing. Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er, Dream of fighting fields no more; Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
Σελίδα 92 - O Woman ! in our hours of ease Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made, When pain and anguish wring the brow A ministering angel...
Σελίδα 88 - England's message here, Although the meanest in her state, May well, proud Angus, be thy mate ! And, Douglas, more I tell thee here, Even in thy pitch of pride, Here in thy hold, thy vassals near, (Nay, never look upon your lord, And lay your hands upon your sword) I tell thee thou'rt defied!
Σελίδα 92 - Fitz-Eustace, to Lord Surrey hie; Tunstall lies dead upon the field, His life-blood stains the spotless shield: Edmund is down; my life is reft; The Admiral alone is left, Let Stanley charge with spur of fire—- With Chester charge, and Lancashire, Full upon Scotland's central host, Or victory and England's lost. Must I bid twice? hence, varlets! fly! Leave Marmion here alone — to die.
Σελίδα xxvi - In varying cadence, soft or strong, He swept the sounding chords along : The present scene, the future lot, His toils, his wants, were all forgot: Cold diffidence, and age's frost, In the full tide of song were lost ; Each blank, in faithless memory void, The poet's glowing thought supplied : And, while his harp responsive rung, 'Twas thus the latest minstrel sung.
Σελίδα 150 - I come with banner, brand, and bow, As leader seeks his mortal foe. For love-lorn swain, in lady's bower, Ne'er panted for the appointed hour, As I, until before me stand This rebel Chieftain and his band !
Σελίδα 88 - Saint Mary mend my fiery mood ! Old age ne'er cools the Douglas blood, I thought to slay him where he stood. 'Tis pity of him too," he cried : " Bold can he speak, and fairly ride, I warrant him a warrior tried.
Σελίδα 92 - 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. It may not be ! — this dizzy trance — Curse on yon base marauder's lance, And doubly cursed my failing brand ! A sinful heart makes feeble hand.
Σελίδα 151 - Fitz-James's blade was sword and shield. He practised every pass and ward, To thrust, to strike, to feint, to guard ; While less expert, though stronger far, The Gael maintain'd unequal war. Three times in closing strife they stood, And thrice the Saxon blade drank blood ; No stinted draught, no scanty tide, The gushing flood the tartans dyed.