. The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed. with a careful revision of the text. ayThrough Rokebys park and chase that , skirting high the valleys crossed by Gretas ancient where her waters windFree for a space and unconfinedAs, scaped from Brignalls dark-wood seeks wild Morthams deeper , as his eye glanced oer the moundRaised by that Legion long renownedWhose votive shrine asserts their claimOf pious, faithful, conquering fame, Stern sons of war ! sad Wilfrid sighed, Behold the boast of Roman pride !What now of all your toils ar
. The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed. with a careful revision of the text. ayThrough Rokebys park and chase that , skirting high the valleys crossed by Gretas ancient where her waters windFree for a space and unconfinedAs, scaped from Brignalls dark-wood seeks wild Morthams deeper , as his eye glanced oer the moundRaised by that Legion long renownedWhose votive shrine asserts their claimOf pious, faithful, conquering fame, Stern sons of war ! sad Wilfrid sighed, Behold the boast of Roman pride !What now of all your toils are known ?A grassy trench, a broken stone ! —This to himself ; for moral strainTo Bertram were addressed in vain. Of different mood a deeper sigh Awoke when Rokebys turrets high Were northward in the dawning seen To rear them oer the thicket green. O then, though Spensers self had strayed Beside him through the lovely glade. Lending his rich luxuriant glow Of fancy all its charms to show. Pointing the stream rejoicing free As captive set at liberty. Flashing her sparkling waves abroad,. ROKED V. 285 And clamoring joyful on her road ;Pointing where, up the sunny banks,The trees retire in scattered where, advanced before the knoll or hillock rears his crest,Lonely and huge, the giant Oak,As champions when their band is brokeStand forth to guard the rearward bulwark of the scattered host —All this and more might Spenser say,Yet waste in vain his magic Wilfrid eyed the distant towerWhose lattice lights Matildas bower. The open vale is soon passed oer, Rokeby, though nigh, is seen no more; Sinking mid Gretas thickets deep, A wild and darker course they keep, A stern and lone yet lovely road As eer the foot of minstrel trode! Broad shadows oer their passage fell. Deeper and narrower grew the dell; It seemed some mountam, rent and riven, A channel for the stream had given. So high the cliffs of limestone gray Hung beetling oer the torrents way,
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Keywords: ., bookauthorrolfewjw, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookyear1888
