Què en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya
No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.
Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot
The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott: With a Memoir of the Author, Volum 6
Visualització completa - 1857
ancient answer appear arms band battle bear blood bold brand brave brow called cause chase chief Chieftain claim clan close Cross dark death deep Douglas drew Ellen fair fear fire gave give given glance glen grace gray guard hand harp head hear heard heart held Highland hill hold James John kind King knight Lady lake land late length light live Loch look Lord maid means Minstrel morning mountain never night noble Note o'er once pass person pride race rest Robin Hood rock Roderick round scene Scotland Scottish seen side sire song soon sought sound speed stand step stood stranger sword tear tell thee thine thou thought tide Till took true wave wild wind wood young
Pàgina 56 - 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.
Pàgina 216 - And hear— to fire thy flagging zeal— The Saxon cause rests on thy steel ; For thus spoke Fate, by prophet bred Between the living and the dead ; ' Who spills the foremost foeman's life His party conquers in the strife.
Pàgina 110 - Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore, Who danced our infancy upon their knee, And told our marvelling boyhood legends store, Of their strange ventures happ'd by land or sea, How are they blotted from the things that be ! How few, all weak and wither'd of their force, Wait on the verge of dark eternity, Like stranded wrecks, the tide returning hoarse, To sweep them from our sight! Time rolls his ceaseless course.
Pàgina 209 - That whistle garrisoned 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.
Pàgina 35 - Boon nature scatter'd, free and wild, Each plant or flower, the mountain's child. Here eglantine embalm'd the air, Hawthorn and hazel mingled there ; The primrose pale and violet flower, Found in each cliff a narrow bower...
Pàgina 131 - CORONACH 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 raindrops 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.
Pàgina 42 - To measured mood had trained her pace, A foot more light, a step more true, Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew ; E'en the slight hare-bell raised its head, Elastic from her airy tread...
Pàgina 201 - The rugged mountain's scanty cloak Was dwarfish shrubs of birch and oak, With shingles bare, and cliffs between, And patches bright of bracken green, And heather black, that waved so high, It held the copse in rivalry.
Pàgina 270 - And plaids and bonnets waving high, And broadswords flashing to the sky, Are maddening in the rear. Onward they drive, in dreadful race, Pursuers and pursued; Before that tide of flight and chase, How shall it keep its rooted place, The spearmen's twilight wood?— 'Down, down,' cried Mar, 'your lances down!