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ancient arms band Baron Beattisons beneath betwixt blaze blood blood-hound Border bower Branksome Hall Branksome's broken lance Buccleuch called CANTO Carlisle castle chapel chiefs Clair clan courser Cranstoun crest cross Dame dark dead Douglas dread Dwarf Earl Earl of Angus Eildon hills English Eskdale Ettricke Forest father fell fire friends hand harp Hawick head heard heart horse iron king Kirkwall knight knight of Liddesdale Ladye Ladye's laird lance lands LAST MINSTREL Liddesdale Lord Cranstoun loud Melrose Michael Monk moss-trooper Musgrave Naworth Castle ne'er never noble o'er pale prayed ride rode Roslin round rung sayd Scotland Scots Scott Scottish seemed shew shulde Sir William slain soon spear spurred Stanza steed stone stood stout sword ta'en Teviotdale thee Thomas Musgrave thou Tinlinn tower Virgilius Walter warrior wave ween wild William of Deloraine wound
Seite 174 - 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 ! Oh ! 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 ! HUSH'D is the harp — the Minstrel...
Seite 143 - From wandering on a foreign strand ? If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell ; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim, — Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
Seite xi - Was carried by an orphan boy : 'I'hc 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.
Seite 2 - 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...
Seite 143 - 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...
Seite 166 - There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold Lie buried within that proud chapelle ; Each one the holy vault doth hold — But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle ! And each St Clair was buried there, With candle, with book, and with knell ; But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung, The dirge of lovely Rosabelle.
Seite xvi - Though stiff his hands, 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.
Seite 208 - O the monks of Melrose made gude kale * On Fridays when they fasted ; They wanted neither beef nor ale, As long as their neighbour's lasted.
Seite 164 - O'er Roslin all that dreary night, A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam ; 'Twas broader than the watch-fire's light, And redder than the bright moon-beam. It glared on Roslin's castled rock, It ruddied all the copse-wood glen ; 'Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oak, And seen from cavern'd Hawthornden.