The Lady of the Lake: A Poem

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Carey and Hart, 1844 - 383 pages
 

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The lady of thelake

Contents

I
13
II
46
III
87
IV
124
V
163
VI
205

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Page 106 - The font, re-appearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory ; The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing When blighting was nearest.
Page 26 - In all her length far winding lay, With promontory, creek, and bay, And islands that, empurpled bright, Floated amid the livelier light, And mountains, that like giants stand, To sentinel enchanted land.
Page 15 - The antler'd monarch of the waste Sprung from his heathery couch in haste. But, ere his fleet career he took, The dew-drops from his flanks he shook ; Like crested leader proud and high...
Page 107 - But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow ! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of the weeper Wails manhood in glory. The autumn winds rushing Waft the leaves that are searest, But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest. Fleet foot on the correi, Sage counsel in cumber.
Page 229 - Bearing before them, in their course, The relics of the archer force, Like wave with crest of sparkling foam, Right onward did Clan-Alpine come. Above the tide, each broadsword bright Was brandishing like beam of light, Each targe was dark below; And with the ocean's mighty swing, When heaving to the tempest's wing, They hurl'd them on the foe.
Page 179 - Bold Saxon ! to his promise just, Vich-Alpine has discharged his trust. This murderous Chief, this ruthless man, This head of a rebellious clan,. Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, Far past Clan- Alpine's outmost guard.
Page 29 - With head up-raised, and look intent, And eye and ear attentive bent, And locks flung back, and lips apart, Like monument of Grecian art, In listening mood, she seemed to stand The guardian Naiad of the strand.
Page 225 - Is it the lightning's quivering glance That on the thicket streams, Or do they flash on spear and lance The sun's retiring beams ? — I see the dagger-crest of Mar, I see the Moray's silver star, Wave o'er the cloud of Saxon war, That up the lake comes winding far ! To hero boune for battle-strife, Or bard of martial lay, 'Twere worth ten years of peaceful life, One glance at their array ! XVI.
Page 139 - O Alice Brand, my native land Is lost for love of you; And we must hold by wood and wold, As outlaws wont to do. " O Alice,'twas all for thy locks so bright, And 'twas all for thine eyes so blue, That on the night of our luckless flight, Thy brother bold I slew. " Now must I teach to hew the...
Page 181 - Who ill deserved my courteous care, And whose best boast is but to wear A braid of his fair lady's hair.

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