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ancient appears approaching archers arms army band banner battle bear beneath bloody body bore brave broken Bruce called castle charge close commanded dark death deep Donald Caird's Douglas Earl Edward English fair fame Farewell fear fell field fight fire force forest gather gave give glance ground hand hath head hear heard heart hill horse host Isabel Isles John King knight land leave light Lord Lorn lost loud maid mountain never noble Note o'er once pass plain poor Prince ranks rest Robert royal Saint Scotland Scottish seen shore side Sigillum slain SONG soon sound spear stands stone strong Sultaun sword tell thee thine thou thought tide till took towers Twas warrior wave wide wild
Strona 216 - The bride at the altar ; Leave the deer, leave the steer, Leave nets and barges : Come with your fighting gear, Broadswords and targes. Come as the winds come, when Forests are rended, Come as the waves come, when Navies are stranded : Faster come, faster come, Faster and faster, Chief, vassal, page and groom, Tenant and master.
Strona 295 - Far adown the long aisle sacred music is streaming, Lamenting a Chief of the people should fall. But meeter for thee, gentle lover of nature, To lay down thy head like the meek mountain lamb, When, wilder'd, he drops from some cliff huge in stature, And draws his last sob by the side of his dam.
Strona 293 - Lakes and mountains beneath me gleamed misty and wide ; All was still, save by fits, when the eagle was yelling, And starting around me the echoes replied. On the right, Striden-edge round...
Strona 204 - Then up with the Banner, let forest winds fan her, She has blazed over Ettrick eight ages and more ; In sport we'll attend her, in battle defend her, With heart and with hand, like our fathers before.
Strona 252 - And scorn assumes compassion's doubtful mien, To warn me off from the encumbered scene. This must not be ; — and higher duties crave Some space between the theatre and the grave, That, like the Roman in the Capitol, I may adjust my mantle ere I fall : My life's brief act in public service flown, The last, the closing scene, must be my own.
Strona 285 - Or footstep of invader rude, With rapine foul, and red with blood, Pollute our happy shore, — Then farewell home ! and farewell friends ! Adieu each tender tie ! Resolved, we mingle in the tide, Where charging squadrons furious ride, To conquer, or to die.
Strona 212 - O, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows, It calls but the warders that guard thy repose ; Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red, Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.
Strona 295 - With scutcheons of silver the coffin is shielded, And pages stand mute by the canopied pall : Through the courts, at deep midnight, the torches are gleaming ; In the proudly-arch'd chapel the banners are beaming ; Far adown the long aisle sacred music is streaming, Lamenting a Chief of the People should fall.