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

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Page 181 - ... were carried on with the utmost fury in every quarter; the barons even assumed the right of coining money, and of exercising, without appeal, every act of jurisdiction; *** and the inferior gentry, as well as the people, finding no defence from the laws during this total dissolution of sovereign authority, were obliged, for their immediate safety, to pay court to some...
Page 180 - England was immediately filled with those fortresses, which the noblemen garrisoned either with their vassals, or with licentious soldiers, who flocked to them from all quarters. Unbounded rapine was exercised upon the people for the maintenance of these troops ; and private animosities, which had with difficulty been restrained by law, now breaking out without control, rendered England a scene of uninterrupted violence and devastation.
Page 157 - The tear is on his cheek. He mourned the departure of his fame, that fled like the mist of Cona, O Bragela ! thou art too far remote, to cheer the soul of the hero. But let him see thy bright form in his mind : that his thoughts may return to the lonely sun-beam of his love ! Who comes with the locks of age ? It is the son of songs. " Hail, Carril of other times ! Thy voice is like the harp in the halls of Tura.
Page 180 - ... rendered England a scene of uninterrupted violence and devastation. Wars between the nobles were carried on with the utmost fury in every quarter; the barons even assumed the right of coining money, and of exercising, without appeal, every act of jurisdiction...
Page 190 - Thou wert swift, O Morar! as a roe on the desert; terrible as a meteor of fire. Thy wrath was as the storm. Thy sword in battle, as lightning in the field. Thy voice was a stream after rain; like thunder on distant hills. Many fell by thy arm; they were consumed in the flames of thy wrath. But when thou didst return from war, how peaceful was thy brow! Thy face was like the sun...
Page 101 - Trenmor came, from his hill, at the voice of his mighty son. A cloud, like the steed of the stranger, supported his airy limbs. His robe is of the mist of Lano, that brings death to the people. His sword is a green meteor half- extinguished. His face is without form, and dark. He sighed thrice over the hero...
Page 308 - Annir," said Starno of lakes, " was a fire that consumed of old. He poured death from his eyes, along the striving fields. His joy was in the fall of men. Blood to him, was a summer stream, that brings joy to withered vales, from its own mossy rock. He came forth to the lake Luth-cormo, to meet the tall Corman-trunar, he from Urlor of streams, dweller of battle's wing.
Page 128 - Fingal had started from a dream, and leaned on Trenmor's shield ! the dark-brown shield of his fathers ; which they had lifted of old in war. The hero had seen, in his rest, the mournful form of Agandecca. She came from the way of the ocean. She slowly, lonely, moved over Lena. Her face was pale like -the mist of Cromla. Dark were the tears of her cheek. She often raised her dim hand from her robe : her robe which was of the clouds of the desert: she raised her dim hand over Fingal, and turned away...
Page 3 - О that I might be freed from his love ! that I might rejoice in the presence of Nathos ! Blest are the rocks of Etha ! they will behold his steps at the chace ! they will see his white bosom, when the winds lift his flowing hair !" Such were thy words, Dar-thula, in Selama's mossy towers. But, now, the night is around thee. The winds have deceived thy sails. The winds have deceived thy...

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