The lay of the last minstrel, a poem. With Ballads and lyrical pieces |
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Page 23
... Melrose ran , All purple with their blood ; And well she knew her mother dread , Before Lord Cranstoun she should wed , Would see her on her dying bed . XI . Of noble race the Ladye came ; Her 9 CANTO I. 23 THE LAST MINSTREL . Then fast ...
... Melrose ran , All purple with their blood ; And well she knew her mother dread , Before Lord Cranstoun she should wed , Would see her on her dying bed . XI . Of noble race the Ladye came ; Her 9 CANTO I. 23 THE LAST MINSTREL . Then fast ...
Page 31
... Melrose's holy pile Seek thou the Monk of St Mary's aisle . Greet the Father well from me ; Say that the fated hour is come , And to - night he shall watch with thee , To win the treasure of the tomb : For this will be St Michael's ...
... Melrose's holy pile Seek thou the Monk of St Mary's aisle . Greet the Father well from me ; Say that the fated hour is come , And to - night he shall watch with thee , To win the treasure of the tomb : For this will be St Michael's ...
Page 36
... soul the slaughter red * Barded , or barbed , -applied to a horse accoutered with defensive armour . + Halidon - Hill , on which the battle of Melrose was fought . Of that unhallowed morn arose , When first the Scott 36 CANTÓ I. THE LAY OF.
... soul the slaughter red * Barded , or barbed , -applied to a horse accoutered with defensive armour . + Halidon - Hill , on which the battle of Melrose was fought . Of that unhallowed morn arose , When first the Scott 36 CANTÓ I. THE LAY OF.
Page 37
... . When Hawick he passed , had curfew rung , Now midnight lauds were in Melrose sung . * Lauds , the midnight service of the Catholic church . The sound , upon the fitful gale , In solemn CANTO I. 37 THE LAST MINSTREL .
... . When Hawick he passed , had curfew rung , Now midnight lauds were in Melrose sung . * Lauds , the midnight service of the Catholic church . The sound , upon the fitful gale , In solemn CANTO I. 37 THE LAST MINSTREL .
Page 38
... Melrose he reached , ' twas silence all ; He meetly stabled his steed in stall , And sought the convent's lonely wall . HERE paused the harp and with its swell The Master's fire and courage fell : Dejectedly , and low , he bowed , And ...
... Melrose he reached , ' twas silence all ; He meetly stabled his steed in stall , And sought the convent's lonely wall . HERE paused the harp and with its swell The Master's fire and courage fell : Dejectedly , and low , he bowed , And ...
Common terms and phrases
ancient arms band bard Baron Beattisons beneath betwixt blaze blood blood-hound Border Branksome Branksome Hall Branksome's brave Buccleuch called CANTO castle Cessford chapel chief clan courser crest cross Cumberland Dame dead Douglas dread Duke Earl Earl of Angus Eildon Hills English Eskdale Ettricke Ettricke Forest fair on Carlisle Fawdon fight fire gallant hall hand harp heard highnes hill horse Howard James Jedburgh king Kirkwall knight Ladye lances lands LAST MINSTREL Liddesdale Lord Dacre loud Melrose Melrose Abbey Michael Scott MINSTREL moss-trooper Musgrave Naworth Castle ne'er noble Note o'er ride rode Roslin round rung sayd Scotland Scots Scottish Scottish Border shew shulde Sir William slain song spear St Clair steed stone stood sun shines fair sword Teviot's Teviotdale thee theyme theyre Thomas Musgrave thou Tinlinn tower Twas tyme Virgilius warden warriors ween wild William of Deloraine word wound
Popular passages
Page 206 - That day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay? How shall he meet that dreadful day? When, shrivelling like a parched scroll, The flaming heavens together roll, When louder yet, and yet more dread, Swells the high trump that wakes the dead ! O, on that day, that wrathful day, When man to judgment wakes from clay, Be THOU the trembling sinner's stay, Though heaven and earth shall pass away!
Page 175 - BREATHES there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand...
Page 19 - 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...
Page 43 - 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 196 - O listen, listen, ladies gay ! No haughty feat of arms I tell ; Soft is the note, and sad the lay, That mourns the lovely Rosabelle. — " Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew ! And, gentle ladye, deign to stay ! Rest thee in Castle Ravensheuch, Nor tempt the stormy firth to-day. " The blackening wave is edged with white : To inch and rock the sea-mews fly ; The fishers have heard the Water-Sprite, Whose screams forbode that wreck is nigh.
Page 14 - 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 15 - 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 176 - Caledonia ! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child ! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood, Land of my sires ! what mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band, That knits me to thy rugged strand ! Still, as I view each well-known scene, Think what is now, and what hath been, Seems as, to me, of all bereft, Sole friends thy woods and streams were left ; And thus I love them better still, Even in extremity of ill.
Page 11 - THE way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old; His withered cheek, and tresses gray, 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, welladay! their date was fled, His tuneful brethren all were dead; And he, neglected and oppressed, Wished to be with them, and at rest.
Page 51 - In these far climes, it was my lot To meet the wondrous Michael Scott ; A wizard of such dreaded fame, That when, in Salamanca's cave, Him listed his magic wand to wave, The bells would ring in Notre Dame...