The poetical works of Walter Scott

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Page 41 - IF thou would'st view fair Melrose aright, Go visit it by the pale moon-light; For the gay beams of lightsome day Gild, but to flout, the ruins gray.
Page 13 - Where she with all her ladies sate, Perchance he wished his boon denied : For, when to tune his harp he tried, His trembling hand had lost the ease Which marks security to please...
Page 10 - Stuart's throne ; The bigots of the iron time Had called his harmless art a crime. A wandering harper, scorned and poor, He begged his bread from door to door ; And tuned, to please a peasant's ear, The harp, a king had loved to hear.
Page 9 - Seemed to have known a better day ; The harp, his sole remaining joy, Was carried by an orphan boy. The last of all the bards was he, Who sung of Border chivalry. For, well-a-day ! their date was fled, His tuneful brethren all were dead ; And he, neglected and oppressed, Wished to be with them, and at rest.
Page 48 - 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.
Page 49 - Showed many a prophet, and many a saint, Whose image on the glass was dyed ; Full in the midst, his Cross of Red Triumphant Michael brandished, And trampled the Apostate's pride. The moon-beam kissed the holy pane, And threw on the pavement a bloody stain.
Page 12 - And would the noble duchess deign To listen to an old man's strain, Though stiff his hand, his voice though weak, He thought even yet, the sooth to speak, That if she loved the harp to hear, He could make music to her ear.
Page 167 - But what had my youth with ambition to do ? Why left I Amynta...
Page 47 - The darkened roof rose high aloof On pillars, lofty, and light, and small : The key-stone, that locked each ribbed aisle, Was a fleur-de-lys, or a quatre-feuille ; The corbells* were carved grotesque and grim; And the pillars, with clustered shafts so trim, With base and with capital flourished around, Seemed bundles of lances which garlands had bound.
Page 17 - Ten of them were sheathed in steel, With belted sword, and spur on heel : They quitted not their harness bright Neither by day nor yet by night • They lay down to rest, With corslet laced, Pillowed on buckler cold and hard ; They carved at the meal With gloves of steel, And they drank the red wine through the helmet barred.

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