The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott, Volume 6

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Charles S. Francis, 1849
 

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Page 49 - Looking tranquillity ! It strikes an awe And terror on my aching sight ; the tombs And monumental caves of death look cold, And shoot a chillness to my trembling heart. Give me thy hand, and let me hear thy voice; Nay, quickly speak to me, and let me hear Thy voice — my own affrights me with its echoes.
Page 61 - tis like a camel, indeed. Ham. Methinks it is like a weasel. Pol. It is backed like a weasel. Ham. Or like a whale? Pol. Very like a whale.
Page 248 - Away to the hills, to the caves, to the rocks — Ere I own an usurper, I'll couch with the fox ; And tremble, false Whigs, in the midst of your glee, You have not seen the last of my bonnet and me !
Page 246 - Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can, Come saddle the horses and call up the men, Come open your gates, and let me gae free, For it's up with the bonnets of Bonny Dundee ! Sir Walter Scott.
Page 248 - Come fill up my cup, etc. He waved his proud hand, and the trumpets were blown, The kettle-drums clash'd, and the horsemen rode on, Till on Ravelston's cliffs and on Clermiston's lee, Died away the wild war-notes of Bonny Dundee. Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can, Come saddle the horses and call up the men, Come open your gates, and let me gae free, For it's up with the bonnets of Bonny Dundee!
Page 245 - twas Claver'se who spoke, "Ere the King's crown shall fall there are crowns to be broke ; So let each Cavalier who loves honour and me, Come follow the bonnet of Bonny Dundee. "Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can, Come saddle your horses, and call up your men; Come open the West Port, and let me gang free, And it's room for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee!
Page 161 - Commanding prospect wide o'er field and fell, And peopled village and extended moorland, And the wide ocean and majestic Tay, To the far distant Grampians. — Do not deem it A loosen'd portion of the neighbouring rock, Detach'd by storm and thunder, — 'twas the pedestal On which, in ancient times, a Cross was rear'd, Carved o'er with words which foil'd philologists ; And the events it did commemorate Were dark, remote, and undistinguishable, As were the mystic characters it bore.
Page 161 - None shall pass, Now or in after days, beside that stone, But he shall have strange visions ; thoughts and words That shake, or rouse, or thrill the human heart, Shall rush upon his memory when he hears The spirit-stirring name of this rude symbol ; — Oblivious ages, at that simple spell, Shall render back their terrors with their woes, Alas ! and with their 'crimes — and the proud phantoms Shall move with step familiar to his eye, And accents which, once heard, the ear forgets not, Though ne'er...
Page 263 - OWLSPIEGLE. Cockledemoy ! My boy, my boy, What wilt thou do that can give thee joy? With a needle for a sword, and a thimble for a hat, Wilt thou fight a traverse with the castle cat?
Page 11 - Count Witikind came of a regal strain, And roved with his Norsemen the land and the main. Woe to the realms which he coasted ! for there Was shedding of blood, and rending of hair, Rape of maiden, and slaughter of priest, Gathering of ravens and wolves to the feast: When he hoisted his standard black, Before him was battle, behind him wrack, And he burn'd the churches, that heathen Dane, To light his band to their barks again.

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