Ballads of Battle and Bravery |
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Page 18
... charge the Moors amain ; There is not such a lance as thine In all the host of Spain ! " The Douglas turned towards us then , O , but his glance was high ! — " There is not one of all my men But is as bold as I. " There is not one of ...
... charge the Moors amain ; There is not such a lance as thine In all the host of Spain ! " The Douglas turned towards us then , O , but his glance was high ! — " There is not one of all my men But is as bold as I. " There is not one of ...
Page 18
... charge again . " Now Jesu help thee , " said Lord James , " Thou kind and true Saint Clair ! An ' if I may not bring thee off , I'll die beside thee there ! " Then in his stirrups up he stood , So lion - like and bold , And held the ...
... charge again . " Now Jesu help thee , " said Lord James , " Thou kind and true Saint Clair ! An ' if I may not bring thee off , I'll die beside thee there ! " Then in his stirrups up he stood , So lion - like and bold , And held the ...
Page 48
... men , no Saxon may discern , Until ye hear my bugle blown , and up O'Conor then , And bid the drums strike Tyrrell's March , and charge ye with your men ! " " Now by his soul who sleeps at Cong , 48 BALLADS OF BATTLE AND BRAVERY .
... men , no Saxon may discern , Until ye hear my bugle blown , and up O'Conor then , And bid the drums strike Tyrrell's March , and charge ye with your men ! " " Now by his soul who sleeps at Cong , 48 BALLADS OF BATTLE AND BRAVERY .
Page 50
... charge , in battle order all , While pent like sheep in shepherd's fold the Saxon riders fall ; Their lances long are little use , their numbers block the way , And mad with pain their plunging steeds add terror to the fray ! And of the ...
... charge , in battle order all , While pent like sheep in shepherd's fold the Saxon riders fall ; Their lances long are little use , their numbers block the way , And mad with pain their plunging steeds add terror to the fray ! And of the ...
Page 65
... charged on Tilly's line , And his Walloon lancers , Smiting through their midst , we'll teach Civil look and decent speech To these boyish prancers ! " " Marvel not , mine ancient friend- Like beginning , like the end ! " Quoth the ...
... charged on Tilly's line , And his Walloon lancers , Smiting through their midst , we'll teach Civil look and decent speech To these boyish prancers ! " " Marvel not , mine ancient friend- Like beginning , like the end ! " Quoth the ...
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Common terms and phrases
50 cents ALTENAHR banner Barnwell baron battle blood bold brave breath bride captain Clementina Black Cloth comrades cried dead death deck Douglas drum earth English eyes fair fell fierce fight fire fled fleet Flynn Fontenoy fought gallant George Eliot glory guns hand HARPER & BROTHERS hath head heard heart Hervé Riel horse Irish King knight Lochinvar look Lord James Lord Macaulay loud Mary Cecil Hay Moor Mullingar Netherby never noble O'Conor o'er Oliver OLIVER GOLDSMITH Paper proud Published by HARPER quoth Rhine ride roar rode rose round rushed Saint Samuel Johnson ship shout Sir Nicholas Sir Richard Sir Richard Grenville smile soldier Spain Spanish spur steeds stood sword tears tell thee thou thunder tread Trimleston Twas Tyrrell Tyrrell's Pass Waiting the judgment-day Walter Besant wave Wilkie Collins WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED wounded young Lochinvar
Popular passages
Page 18 - River where ford there was none; But, ere he alighted at Nethe'rby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late: For. a laggard in love and a dastard in war Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.
Page 75 - So through the night rode Paul Revere; And so through the night went his cry of alarm To every Middlesex village and farm, A cry of defiance and not of fear, A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door, And a word that shall echo forevermore!
Page 35 - And the masts and the rigging were lying over the side; But Sir Richard cried in his English pride, "We have fought such a fight for a day and a night As may never be fought again! We have won great glory, my men!
Page 89 - Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Page 72 - On the sombre rafters, that round him made Masses and moving shapes of shade, — By the trembling ladder, steep and tall, To the highest window in the wall, Where he paused to listen and look down A moment on the roofs of the town And the moonlight flowing over all.
Page 118 - The heroes' sepulchre. Rest on, embalmed and sainted dead! Dear as the blood ye gave; No impious footstep here shall tread The herbage of your grave; Nor shall your glory be forgot While Fame her record keeps, Or Honor points the hallowed spot Where Valor proudly sleeps. Yon marble minstrel's voiceless stone In deathless song shall tell, When many a vanished age hath flown, The story how ye fell; Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter's blight, Nor Time's remorseless doom.
Page 46 - TELL me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field ; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, Dear, so much, Loved I not Honour more.
Page 71 - If the British march By land or sea from the town tonight, Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch Of the North Church tower as a signal light,— One, if by land, and two, if by sea; And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village and farm, For the country folk to be up and to arm.
Page 10 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha for Scotland's king and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand or freeman fa', Let him follow me!
Page 74 - He has left the village and mounted the steep, And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep, Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides; And under the alders that skirt its edge, Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge, Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.