The castles of Wolfnorth & Mont Eagle, by St. Ann

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Page 134 - Steel sounds on steel, and helmets are cleft on high : blood bursts and smokes around : strings murmur on the polished yews : darts rush along the sky : spears fall like circles of light which gild the stormy face of night.
Page 167 - Cuthona shall rest on Mora : but the days of Toscar must be sad. I shall sit in my cave in the field of the sun. The blast will rustle in my trees. I shall think it is Cuthona
Page 335 - ... with its head of heath? Three aged pines bend from its face; green is the narrow plain at its feet; there the flower of the mountain grows, and shakes its white head in the breeze. The thistle is there alone, shedding its aged beard. Two stones half sunk in the ground, shew their heads of moss. The deer of the mountain avoids the place, for he beholds a dim ghost standing there.
Page 243 - Wrathful the brothers frowned. Their flaming eyes, in silence, met. They turned away. They struck their shields. Their hands were trembling on their swords. They rushed into the strife of heroes, for long-haired Strina-dona.

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