Ballads of Battle and Bravery |
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Page 18
... back , Not , James of Douglas , thou : ' " Now , by thy knightly faith , I pray , Sir Simon of the LeeFor truer friend had never man Than thou hast been to me" If ne'er upon the Holy Land " Tis mine in 18 BALLADS OF BATTLE AND BRAVERY .
... back , Not , James of Douglas , thou : ' " Now , by thy knightly faith , I pray , Sir Simon of the LeeFor truer friend had never man Than thou hast been to me" If ne'er upon the Holy Land " Tis mine in 18 BALLADS OF BATTLE AND BRAVERY .
Page 18
... Not , James of Douglas , thou : ' " Now , by thy knightly faith , I pray , Sir Simon of the Lee- For truer friend had never man Than thou hast been to me- " If ne'er upon the Holy Land " Tis mine 18 BALLADS OF BATTLE AND BRAVERY .
... Not , James of Douglas , thou : ' " Now , by thy knightly faith , I pray , Sir Simon of the Lee- For truer friend had never man Than thou hast been to me- " If ne'er upon the Holy Land " Tis mine 18 BALLADS OF BATTLE AND BRAVERY .
Page 18
... never be said of me That I and mine have turned aside From the Cross in jeopardie ! " Have down , have down , my merry men all- Have down unto the plain ; We'll let the Scottish lion loose Within the fields of Spain ! " " Now welcome to ...
... never be said of me That I and mine have turned aside From the Cross in jeopardie ! " Have down , have down , my merry men all- Have down unto the plain ; We'll let the Scottish lion loose Within the fields of Spain ! " " Now welcome to ...
Page 18
William Gordon McCabe. He flung it from him , far ahead , And never spake he more , But- " Pass thou first , thou dauntless heart , As thou wert wont of yore ! " The roar of fight rose fiercer yet , And heavier still the stour , Till the ...
William Gordon McCabe. He flung it from him , far ahead , And never spake he more , But- " Pass thou first , thou dauntless heart , As thou wert wont of yore ! " The roar of fight rose fiercer yet , And heavier still the stour , Till the ...
Page 18
... never bear the Moor ! " The King he lighted from his horse , He flung his brand away , And took the Douglas by the hand , So stately as he lay . " God give thee rest , thou valiant soul ! That fought so well for Spain ; I'd rather half ...
... never bear the Moor ! " The King he lighted from his horse , He flung his brand away , And took the Douglas by the hand , So stately as he lay . " God give thee rest , thou valiant soul ! That fought so well for Spain ; I'd rather half ...
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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.