Ballads of Battle and Bravery |
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Page 18
... once more In fiery fight against the foe , As it was wont of yore . " And it shall pass beneath the Cross , And save King Robert's vow ; But other hands shall bear it back , Not , James of Douglas , thou : ' " Now , by thy knightly ...
... once more In fiery fight against the foe , As it was wont of yore . " And it shall pass beneath the Cross , And save King Robert's vow ; But other hands shall bear it back , Not , James of Douglas , thou : ' " Now , by thy knightly ...
Page 17
... once the Saviour trod , Since he might not bear the blessed Cross , Nor strike one blow for God . " Last night as in my bed I lay , I dreamed a dreary dream : Methought I saw a Pilgrim stand In the moonlight's quivering beam . " His ...
... once the Saviour trod , Since he might not bear the blessed Cross , Nor strike one blow for God . " Last night as in my bed I lay , I dreamed a dreary dream : Methought I saw a Pilgrim stand In the moonlight's quivering beam . " His ...
Page 18
... once more In fiery fight against the foe , As it was wont of yore . " And it shall pass beneath the Cross , And save King Robert's vow ; But other hands shall bear it back , Not , James of Douglas , thou : ' " Now , by thy knightly ...
... once more In fiery fight against the foe , As it was wont of yore . " And it shall pass beneath the Cross , And save King Robert's vow ; But other hands shall bear it back , Not , James of Douglas , thou : ' " Now , by thy knightly ...
Page 18
... once more to ride , Nor force of man , nor craft of fiend , Shall cleave me from thy side ! " And aye we sailed and aye we sailed Across the weary sea , Until one morn the coast of Spain Rose grimly on our lee . And as we rounded to the ...
... once more to ride , Nor force of man , nor craft of fiend , Shall cleave me from thy side ! " And aye we sailed and aye we sailed Across the weary sea , Until one morn the coast of Spain Rose grimly on our lee . And as we rounded to the ...
Page 58
... once were so busy with your blades ? Your perfumed satin clothes , your catches and your oaths ? Your stage - plays and your sonnets , your diamonds and your spades ? Down ! down ! forever down with the mitre and 58 BALLADS OF BATTLE ...
... once were so busy with your blades ? Your perfumed satin clothes , your catches and your oaths ? Your stage - plays and your sonnets , your diamonds and your spades ? Down ! down ! forever down with the mitre and 58 BALLADS OF BATTLE ...
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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.