Marmion

Voorkant
Leach, Shewell, & Sanborn, 1891 - 281 pagina's
 

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Pagina 124 - The bride kissed the goblet; the knight took it up, He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh; With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye. He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar, — 'Now tread we a measure!
Pagina 123 - River where ford there was none; But ere he alighted at Netherby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late : For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
Pagina 163 - When the King praised his clerkly skill. Thanks to Saint Bothan, son of mine, Save Gawain, ne'er could pen a line : So swore I, and I swear it still, Let my boy-bishop fret his fill. — Saint Mary mend my fiery mood ! Old age ne'er cools the Douglas blood, I thought to slay him where he stood. 'Tis pity of him too," he cried : " Bold can he speak, and fairly ride : I warrant him a warrior tried.
Pagina 231 - HEAP on more wood ! — the wind is chill ; But let it whistle as it will, We'll keep our Christmas merry still.
Pagina 25 - George's banner, broad and gay, Now faded, as the fading ray Less bright, and less, was flung ; The evening gale had scarce the power To wave it on the donjon tower, So heavily it hung. The scouts had parted on their search, The Castle gates were barr'd ; Above the gloomy portal arch, Timing his footsteps to a march, The warder kept his guard ; Low humming, as he paced along, Some ancient Border gathering song.
Pagina 109 - For on the smoke-wreaths, huge and slow, That round her sable turrets flow, The morning beams were shed, And tinged them with a lustre proud, Like that which streaks a thunder-cloud. Such dusky grandeur clothed the height, Where the huge castle holds its state, And all the steep slope down Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky, Piled deep and massy, close and high, Mine own romantic town...
Pagina 232 - And brought blithe Christmas back again, With all his hospitable train. Domestic and religious rite Gave honour to the holy night ; On Christmas Eve the bells were rung ; On Christmas Eve the mass was sung: That only night in all the year, Saw the stoled priest the chalice rear.
Pagina 178 - She fill'd the helm, and back she hied, And with surprise and joy espied A Monk supporting Marmion's head : A pious man, whom duty brought To dubious verge of battle fought, To shrieve the dying, bless the dead. Deep drank Lord Marmion of the wave, And, as she stoop'd his brow to lave— " Is it the hand of Clare," he said, ''Or injured Constance, bathes my head?
Pagina 124 - I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied; Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide; And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. There are maidens in Scotland, more lovely by far, That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.
Pagina 179 - In vain for Constance is your zeal; She died at Holy Isle." — Lord Marmion started from the ground, As light as if he felt no wound; Though in the action burst the tide, In torrents from his wounded side. " Then it was truth," he said—" I knew That the dark presage must be true.

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