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appear arms band battle bear blood brand brow called Castle cause chase chief Chieftain claim clan close Cross danger dark death deep Douglas edition Ellen fair fear fire gave give glance glen grace gray hand harp head hear heard heart held Highland hill hold isle James John kind King knight Lady lake land light living Loch look Lord maid marked means Minstrel morning mountain never noble o'er once pass person plaid poem pride race reads rest Robin Hood rock Roderick rose round says Scotland Scott Scott says Scottish seemed seen Shakespeare side song soon sought sound spear speed stand step Stirling stood strain stranger sword thee thine thou thought tide true turned wave wild wind wood
Page 25 - SOLDIER, REST! THY WARFARE O'ER From THE LADY OF THE LAKE 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.
Page 243 - Methinks I see in my mind a noble and puissant nation rousing herself like a strong man after sleep, and shaking her invincible locks : methinks I see her as an eagle, mewing her mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full mid-day beam...
Page 196 - Where throngs of knights and barons bold, In weeds of peace high triumphs hold, With store of ladies, whose bright eyes Rain influence, and judge the prize Of wit or arms, while both contend To win her grace whom all commend.
Page 13 - Down to the lake in masses threw Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurled, The fragments of an earlier world ; A wildering forest feathered o'er His ruined sides and summit hoar, While on the north, through middle air, Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare.
Page 43 - Moored in the rifted rock, Proof to the tempest's shock, Firmer he roots him the ruder it blow; Menteith and Breadalbane, then, Echo his praise agen, Roderigh Vich Alpine dhu, ho! ieroe!
Page 25 - No rude sound shall reach* thine ear, Armour's clang, or war-steed champing, Trump nor pibroch summon here Mustering clan or squadron tramping. Yet the lark's shrill fife may come At the daybreak from the fallow, And the bittern sound his drum, Booming from the sedgy shallow. Ruder sounds shall none be near, Guards nor warders challenge here, Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing, Shouting clans or squadrons stamping.
Page 16 - And seldom was a snood amid Such wild luxuriant ringlets hid, Whose glossy black to shame might bring The plumage of the raven's wing ; And seldom o'er a breast so fair Mantled a plaid with modest care ; And never brooch the folds combined Above a heart more good and kind. Her kindness and her worth to spy, You need but gaze on Ellen's eye ; Not Katrine, in her mirror blue, Gives back the shaggy banks more true...
Page 126 - Yet think not that by thee alone, Proud Chief! can courtesy be shown ; Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn, Start at my whistle, clansmen stern, Of this small horn one feeble blast Would fearful odds against thee cast. But fear not — doubt not — which thou wilt — We try this quarrel hilt to hilt.