The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed with a careful revision of the text . vanish from my sight:The moonbeam drooped, and deepest night Sunk down upon the heath.—T were long to tell what cause I have To know his face that met me by his hatred from the grave To cumber upper air;Dead or alive, good cause had heTo be my mortal enemy. Marvelled Sir David of the Mount;Then, learned in story, gan recount .Such chance had happed of old,When once, near Norham. there did fightA spectre fell of fiendish might,In likeness of a Scottish knight. With Brian Bulmor traine
The poetical works of Sir Walter Scott, baronet; ed with a careful revision of the text . vanish from my sight:The moonbeam drooped, and deepest night Sunk down upon the heath.—T were long to tell what cause I have To know his face that met me by his hatred from the grave To cumber upper air;Dead or alive, good cause had heTo be my mortal enemy. Marvelled Sir David of the Mount;Then, learned in story, gan recount .Such chance had happed of old,When once, near Norham. there did fightA spectre fell of fiendish might,In likeness of a Scottish knight. With Brian Bulmor trained him nigh to disallowThe aid of his baptismal vow.• .And such a phantom, too, t is Highland broadsword, targe, andplaid. And fingers red with seen in Rothiemurcus where the sable pine-trees shadeDark Tomantoul, and .Auchnaslaid, Dromouchty, or yet, whateer such legends sayOf warlike demon, ghost, or fay. On mountain, moor, or plain,.Spotless in faith, in bosom son of chivalry should hold These midnight terrors vain ; MARM/ON. 107. For seldom have such spirits powerTo harm, save in the evil hourWlien guilt we meditate withinOr harbor unrepented sin. —Lord Alarmion turned him half aside, And twice to clear his voice he tried,Then pressed Sir Davids hand, — But nought, at length, in answer said ; And here their furtlier converse ordering: tliat his band io8 SCOTTS POETICAL WORKS. Sliould bowne tliem with the rising day,To Scotlands camp to take their way, —Siicli was tlie kings command. XXIII. Early they took Dun-Kdins road,And I could trace each step they trode ;Hill, brook, nor dell, nor rock, nor stone,Lies on the path to me might it boast of storied lore ;But, passing such digression oer,Suffice it that their route was laid Now, from the summit to the all the hill with yellow grain ; And oer the landscape as I do 1 see unchanged remain. Save the rude cliffs and chimi
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Keywords: ., bookauthorrolfewjw, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookyear1888
