. The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed. with a careful revision of the text. titude and limb,.As listening still, Clan-Alpines lordStood leaning on liis heavy the page with humble signTwice pointed to the suns wliile his plaid he round him cast, It is the last time — t is the last,He muttered thrice. — the last time eerThat angel-voice shall Roderick hear !It was a goading thought, — his strideHied hastier down the mountain-side;Sullen he flung him in the boat,An instant cross the lake it shot. From the deep heather where they well was matched the
. The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed. with a careful revision of the text. titude and limb,.As listening still, Clan-Alpines lordStood leaning on liis heavy the page with humble signTwice pointed to the suns wliile his plaid he round him cast, It is the last time — t is the last,He muttered thrice. — the last time eerThat angel-voice shall Roderick hear !It was a goading thought, — his strideHied hastier down the mountain-side;Sullen he flung him in the boat,An instant cross the lake it shot. From the deep heather where they well was matched the tartan screenWith heath-bell dark and brackens green;Unless where, here and there, a bladeOr lances point a glimmer made,Like glow-worm twinkling through the when, advancing through the saw the Chieftains eagle shout of welcome, shrill and the steep mountains steady it arose, and lake and fellThree times returned the martial yell;It died upon Bochastles plain,And Silence claimed her evening reitrn. THE LADY OF THE LAKE. 203. €!)£ 2Lat)g of t|)c 3Lakc. CANTO PROPHECY. I. * The rose is fairest when t is budding new,And hope is brightest when it dawns fromfears;The rose is sweetest washed with morningdew,And love is loveliest when embalmed wilding rose, whom fancy thus endears,I bid your blossoms in my bonnet wave,Emblem of hope and love through futureyears !Thus spoke young Norman, heir of time the sun arose on Vennacharsbroad wave. Such fond conceit, half said, half sung,Love prompted to the bridegrooms while he stripped the wild-rose spray,His axe and bow beside him on a pass twixt lake and woodA wakeful sentinel he ! —-on the rock a footstep rung,And instant to his arms he sprung. * Stand, or thou diest! — What, Malise ? — soonArt thou returned from Braes of thy keen step and glance I know,Thou bringst us tidings of the foe. —Fo
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Keywords: ., bookauthorrolfewjw, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookyear1888
