The poetical works of sir Walter Scott. Ed., with a critical memoir, by W.M. Rossetti. Illustr |
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الصفحة 3
... Twas thus the LATEST MINSTREL sung . CANTO FIRST . 1. THE feast was over in Branksome tower , And the Ladye had gone to her secret bower ; Her bower , that was guarded by word and by spell , Deadly to hear , and deadly to tell- Jesu ...
... Twas thus the LATEST MINSTREL sung . CANTO FIRST . 1. THE feast was over in Branksome tower , And the Ladye had gone to her secret bower ; Her bower , that was guarded by word and by spell , Deadly to hear , and deadly to tell- Jesu ...
الصفحة 10
... twas silence all He meetly stabled his steed in stall , And sought the convent's lonely wall . HERE paused the harp ; and with its swell The Master's fire and courage fell : Dejectedly , and low , he bowed , And , gazing timid on the ...
... twas silence all He meetly stabled his steed in stall , And sought the convent's lonely wall . HERE paused the harp ; and with its swell The Master's fire and courage fell : Dejectedly , and low , he bowed , And , gazing timid on the ...
الصفحة 16
... twas said to me . 23. " Now , hie thee hence , " the Father said , " And , when we are on death - bed laid , O may our dear Ladye , and sweet St John , Forgive our souls for the deed we have done ! " - The Monk returned him to his cell ...
... twas said to me . 23. " Now , hie thee hence , " the Father said , " And , when we are on death - bed laid , O may our dear Ladye , and sweet St John , Forgive our souls for the deed we have done ! " - The Monk returned him to his cell ...
الصفحة 18
... Twas said , when the Baron a - hunting rode Through Reedsdale's glens , but rarely trod , He heard a voice cry , " Lost ! lost ! lost ! " And , like tennis - ball by racket tossed , A leap , of thirty feet and three , Made from the ...
... Twas said , when the Baron a - hunting rode Through Reedsdale's glens , but rarely trod , He heard a voice cry , " Lost ! lost ! lost ! " And , like tennis - ball by racket tossed , A leap , of thirty feet and three , Made from the ...
الصفحة 26
... Twas near the time of curfew bell ; The air was mild , the wind was calm , The stream was smooth , the dew was balm ; E'en the rude watchman , on the tower , Enjoyed and blessed the lovely hour . Far more fair Margaret loved and blessed ...
... Twas near the time of curfew bell ; The air was mild , the wind was calm , The stream was smooth , the dew was balm ; E'en the rude watchman , on the tower , Enjoyed and blessed the lovely hour . Far more fair Margaret loved and blessed ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
agen Argentine arms bade band banner bard battle beneath Bertram blood blood-hound bold bore bower brand Branksome Hall brave breast bright Brignal brow Bruce castle cheer courser dark deep Deloraine Douglas dread drew Edinburgh Annual Ettricke Forest fair falchion fame fate fear fell fierce fight gallant glance glen grace gray hall hand harp hast hath hear heard heart heaven hill honoured King knight lady lance land Liddesdale light Lochinvar lonely look Lord Marmion Lorn loud maid maiden minstrel monarch Mortham mountain ne'er noble o'er pale passed pennons pibroch pride Risingham rock Roderick Rokeby's Ronald round rude rung Saint Saxon scarce Scotland Scotland's Scottish shore sire smile song sought sound spear spoke steed stern stood strife sword tale tell thee thine thou tide toil tower train Twas twixt voice wake warrior wave ween wild Wilfrid wind youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 143 - 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.
الصفحة 13 - 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.
الصفحة 59 - 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.
الصفحة 190 - 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.
الصفحة 143 - 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.
الصفحة 171 - 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.
الصفحة 187 - 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.
الصفحة 193 - 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...
الصفحة 177 - 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.
الصفحة 191 - 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...