. The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed. with a careful revision of the text. s formed to light some lonely dell,By two fond lovers only seen. Reflected from the crystal well;Or sleeping on their mossy cell, Or quivering on the lattice glancing on their couch, to tell How swiftly wanes the summer night! He starts — a step at this lone hour ! A voice ! — his father seeks the tower. With haggard look and troubled sense, Fresh from his dreadful conference. Wilfrid ! — what, not to sleep addressed ? Thou hast no cares to chase thy rest. Mortham has fallen on Marston-moor; B
. The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed. with a careful revision of the text. s formed to light some lonely dell,By two fond lovers only seen. Reflected from the crystal well;Or sleeping on their mossy cell, Or quivering on the lattice glancing on their couch, to tell How swiftly wanes the summer night! He starts — a step at this lone hour ! A voice ! — his father seeks the tower. With haggard look and troubled sense, Fresh from his dreadful conference. Wilfrid ! — what, not to sleep addressed ? Thou hast no cares to chase thy rest. Mortham has fallen on Marston-moor; Bertram brings warrant to secure His treasures, bought by sp^il and blood, For the states use and public good. The menials will thy voice obey ; Let his commission have its way, In every point, in every word. Then, in a whisper, — Take thy sword ! Bertram is — what I must not tell. I hear his hasty step — farewell! CANTO Far in the chambers of the gale had sighed itself to rest;The moon was cloudless now and clear,But pale and soon to disappear. ROKEBY. 283. The thin gray clouds waxed dimly lightOn Brusleton and Houghton height;And the rich dale that eastward layWaited the wakening touch of day,To give its woods and cultured plain,And towers and spires, to light , westward, Stanmores shapeless Lunedale wild, and Kelton-fell,And rock-begirdled Gilmanscar,And Arkingarth, lay dark afar;While, as a livelier twilight falls,Emerge proud Barnards bannered crowned he sits in dawning pale,The sovereign of the lovely vale. What prospects from his watch-tower highGleam gradual on the warders eye ! —Far sweeping to the east, he seesDown his deep woods the course of Tees,And tracks his wanderings by the steamOf summer vapors from the stream;And ere he pace his destined hourBy Brackenburys silver mists shall melt awayAnd clew the woods with glittering in broad lustre shall be shownThat mighty trench
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Keywords: ., bookauthorrolfewjw, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookyear1888
