Marmion: A Tale of Flodden Field

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S. E. Cassino, 1893 - 194 Seiten
 

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Seite 167 - I tell thee, thou'rt defied ! And if thou saidst, I am not peer To any lord in Scotland here, Lowland or Highland, far or near, Lord Angus, thou hast lied...
Seite 125 - So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; And the bride-maidens whispered, " 'Twere better by far To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.
Seite 124 - I long woo'd your daughter, my suit you denied ; — Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide; — And now I am 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.
Seite 184 - Fitz-Eustace to Lord Surrey hie : Tunstall lies dead upon the field, His life-blood stains the spotless shield : Edmund is down; — my life is reft ; The admiral alone is left. Let Stanley charge with spur of fire, — With Chester charge, and Lancashire, Full upon Scotland's central host, Or victory and England's lost. — Must I bid twice ? hence, varlets ! fly I Leave Marmion here alone — to die.
Seite 89 - He was a man of middle age ; In aspect manly, grave, and sage, As on King's errand come ; But in the glances of his eye, A penetrating, keen, and sly Expression found its home ; The flash of that satiric rage, Which, bursting on the early stage, Branded the vices of the age, And broke the keys of Rome.
Seite 166 - Part we in friendship from your land, And, noble Earl, receive my hand." But Douglas round him drew his cloak, Folded his arms, and thus he spoke : "My manors, halls, and bowers shall still Be open, at my sovereign's will, To each one whom he lists, howe'er Unmeet to be the owner's peer. My castles are my king's alone, From turret to foundation stone; The hand of Douglas is his own; And never shall, in friendly grasp, The hand of such as Marmion clasp.
Seite 186 - She filled 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 stooped his brow to lave — " Is it the hand of Clare," he said, " Or injured Constance, bathes my head?
Seite 184 - O, woman ! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made ; When pain and anguish wring the brow A ministering angel thou...
Seite 54 - Now, men of death, work forth your will, For I can suffer, and be still ; And come he slow, or come he fast, It is but Death who comes at last.
Seite 180 - At length the freshening western blast Aside the shroud of battle cast; And first the ridge of mingled spears Above the brightening cloud appears; And in the smoke the pennons flew, As in the storm the white sea-mew. Then marked they, dashing broad and far, The broken billows of the war, And plumed crests of chieftains brave Floating like foam upon the wave...

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