ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة
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ancient appeared arms band battle bear beneath blood bold Border brave breast brow Bruce called castle chief close command cross dark death deep Douglas dread Earl English fair fear fell field fight fire gave give given glance grace hall hand head hear heard heart heaven held hill hold horse hour King knew knight lady laid land light living look Lord maid mark Marmion meet mountain ne'er never noble o'er once pale pass pride rest ride rock rose round Saint scarce Scotland Scott Scottish seemed seen side soon soul sound spear spoke steed stone stood strong sword tale tell thee thou thought tide Till took tower train true turned voice wall warrior wave wild wind
الصفحة 6 - CALL it not vain :— they do not err, Who say, that when the Poet dies, Mute Nature mourns her worshipper, And celebrates his obsequies : Who say, tall cliff, and cavern lone, For the departed Bard make moan ; That mountains weep in crystal rill ; That flowers in tears of balm distil ; Through his loved groves that breezes sigh, And oaks, in deeper groan, reply ; And rivers teach their rushing wave To murmur dirges round his grave.
الصفحة 10 - Caledonia ! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child ! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood, Land of my sires ! what mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band, That knits me to thy rugged strand ! Still, as I view each well-known scene, Think what is now, and what hath been, Seems as, to me, of all bereft, Sole friends thy woods and streams were left ; And thus I love them better still, Even in extremity of ill.
الصفحة 58 - O'er their thin host and wounded King. Then skilful Surrey's sage commands Led back from strife his shattered bands ; And from the charge they drew, As mountain-waves, from wasted lands, Sweep back to ocean blue. Then did their loss his foemen know ; Their King, their Lords, their mightiest low, They melted from the field, as snow, When streams are swoln and south winds blow, Dissolves in silent dew.
الصفحة 234 - How long didst thou think that his silence was slumber? When the wind waved his garment, how oft didst thou start ? How many long days and long weeks didst thou number, Ere he faded before thee, the friend of thy heart ? And oh ! was it meet that — no requiem read o'er him, No mother to weep, and no friend to deplore him, And thou, little guardian, alone stretched before him — Unhonoured the pilgrim from life should depart...
الصفحة 58 - But yet, though thick the shafts as snow, Though charging knights like whirlwinds go, Though billmen ply the ghastly blow, Unbroken was the ring; The stubborn spearmen still made good Their dark impenetrable wood, Each stepping where his comrade stood The instant that he fell. No thought was there of dastard flight; Linked in the serried phalanx tight, Groom fought like noble, squire like knight, As fearlessly and well...
الصفحة 8 - The moon on the east oriel shone Through slender shafts of shapely stone, By foliaged tracery combined : Thou wouldst have thought some fairy's hand 'Twixt poplars straight the osier wand In many a freakish knot had twined, Then framed a spell when the work was done, And changed the willow wreaths to stone.
الصفحة 220 - Harp and carp along with me ; And if ye dare to kiss my lips, Sure of your bodie I will be." "Betide me weal, betide me woe, That weird shall never danton me." Syne he has kissed her rosy lips. All underneath the Eildon Tree.
الصفحة 7 - True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven : It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes, soon as granted, fly; It liveth not in fierce desire, With dead desire it doth not die ; It is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, In body and in soul can bind.
الصفحة 74 - The sportive toil, which, short and light, Had dyed her glowing hue so bright, Served too in hastier swell to show Short glimpses of a breast of snow : What though no rule of courtly grace To measured mood had trained her pace, — A foot more light, a step more true, Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew; E'en the slight harebell raised its head, Elastic from her airy tread...