The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed with a careful revision of the text . lwark, and bartizan, and line. And bastion, tower, and vantage-coign. Above the booming ocean leant The far-projecting battlement; The billows burst in ceaseless flow Upon the precipice below. Whereer Tantallon faced the land, (Jate-works and w alls were strongly manned; No need upon the sea-girt side : The steepy rock and frantic tide Approach of human step denied. And thus these lines and ramparts rude Were left in deepest solitude. And, for they were so lonely, ClareWould to these battlements
The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed with a careful revision of the text . lwark, and bartizan, and line. And bastion, tower, and vantage-coign. Above the booming ocean leant The far-projecting battlement; The billows burst in ceaseless flow Upon the precipice below. Whereer Tantallon faced the land, (Jate-works and w alls were strongly manned; No need upon the sea-girt side : The steepy rock and frantic tide Approach of human step denied. And thus these lines and ramparts rude Were left in deepest solitude. And, for they were so lonely, ClareWould to these battlements muse upon her sorrows there. And list the sea-birds slow, like noontide ghost, would glideAlong the dark-gray bulwarks ever on the heaving tide Look down with weary did the cliff and swelling mainRecall the thoughts of Whitbys fane,—A home she neer might see again; For she had laid Douglas bade, the hood and frontlet of the cloister pale. And lienedictine gown :It were unseemly sight, he said,A novice out of convent shade.— MARM ION. 131. Now her bright locks with sunny glowAgain adorned her brow of snow;Her mantle rich, whose borders roundA deep and fretted broidery bound,In golden foldings sought the ground ;Of holy ornament, aloneRemained a cross with ruby stone ; And often did she lookOn that which in her hand she bore,With velvet bound and broidered oer, Her breviary such a place, so lone, so dawning pale or twilight dim, It fearful would have beenTo meet a form so richly book in hand, and cross on breast, And such a woful , loitering with his bow,To practise on the gull and her at distance gliding slow, .And did by Mary swearSome lovelorn fay she might have been,Ot in romance some spell-bound queen,For neer in work-day world was seen A form so witching fair. Once walking thus at evening tideIt chanced a gliding sail she sighing thought — The abbess therePerch
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Keywords: ., bookauthorrolfewjw, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookyear1888
