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Adela Agnes appeared Ardven armour arms attention Augustine Baron Baroness beautiful Bevis de Wilton bore bosom breast brother burga Caithness casque Castle cheek chieftain child countenance courser court cousin cried dark dear death delight departed dreadful Dunthalmo Earl Earl of Cornwall Editha Elfwold esquire Ethel Ethelburga Eustace eyes falcon Father Bertrand fear feelings feet felt Fitz Alwy Fitz Alwy's Fitz Arnulf Fitz William forest gazed gold golden golden lion graceful hand happy heart Heaven heralds honour Hontercombe horse Ithona Knight Lady look Lord Edwin Lord Falconberg Lord Fitz lovely Lucy manner melancholy mind Mont Eagle Mowbray never noble o'er opponent Osmond pale Philip Fitz Aubrey poor pressed rampart replied returned rushed Ryno seemed sighed Sir Aymer Sir Bevis Sir Edwin Montague Sir Morcar smiled sorrow soul Stanley steed stranger sweet tears tender Thane thee thou tower valour voice Warden Warrenne wish wold Wolfnorth young youth
Page 348 - He lifted high his shadowy spear! He bent forward his dreadful height. Fingal, advancing, drew his sword; the blade of dark-brown Luno.* The gleaming path of the steel winds through the gloomy ghost. The form fell shapeless into air, like a column of smoke, which the staff of the boy disturbs, as it rises from the half-extinguished furnace.
Page 259 - The lightning 20 flies on wings of fire! They frighten not Comala; for Fingal is low. Say, chief of the mournful tale, fell the breaker of the shields? Hidallan. The nations are scattered on their hills! they shall hear the voice of the king no more. Comala. Confusion pursue thee over thy plains!
Page 214 - I beheld thy arms, on thy breast, white tossed amidst thy wandering locks : when the rustling breeze of the morning came from the desert of streams. Hast thou seen thy fathers, Bos-mina, descending in thy dreams ? Arise, daughter of Clatho ; dwells there aught of grief in thy soul ? BOS-MINA. A thin form passed before me, fading as it flew : like the darkening wave of a breeze, along a field of grass.
Page vi - I heard of thy death on the hill; I heard and mourned thee, Shilric!" Yes, my fair, I return; but I alone of my race. Thou shalt see them no more: their graves I raised on the plain. But why art thou on the desert hill? Why on the heath alone? "Alone I am, O Shilric, alone in the winterhouse. With grief for thee I fell, Shilric; I am pale in the tomb.