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Page 17
... Donald's fame rings in each clansman's ears ! And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves , Dewy with nature's tear - drops , as they pass , Grieving , if aught inanimate e'er grieves , Over the Night before the Battle of Waterloo . 29.
... Donald's fame rings in each clansman's ears ! And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves , Dewy with nature's tear - drops , as they pass , Grieving , if aught inanimate e'er grieves , Over the Night before the Battle of Waterloo . 29.
Page 21
... wave , In mockery o'er my brother's grave . ' The place is silent ; rarely sound Is heard those ancient walls around ; Nor mirthful voice of friends that meet , Discoursing in My Brother's Grave . 21 And the women are weeping and ...
... wave , In mockery o'er my brother's grave . ' The place is silent ; rarely sound Is heard those ancient walls around ; Nor mirthful voice of friends that meet , Discoursing in My Brother's Grave . 21 And the women are weeping and ...
Page 29
... Donald's fame rings in each clansman's ears ! And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves , Dewy with nature's tear - drops , as they pass , Grieving , if aught inanimate e'er grieves , Over the Night before the Battle of Waterloo . 29.
... Donald's fame rings in each clansman's ears ! And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves , Dewy with nature's tear - drops , as they pass , Grieving , if aught inanimate e'er grieves , Over the Night before the Battle of Waterloo . 29.
Page 39
... wave , As queen of earth and air ; But faint hearts throbbed beneath its folds In anguish and despair . Deep , deep in Paynim dungeon Their kingly chieftain lay , And low on many an eastern field Their knighthood's best array . ' Twas ...
... wave , As queen of earth and air ; But faint hearts throbbed beneath its folds In anguish and despair . Deep , deep in Paynim dungeon Their kingly chieftain lay , And low on many an eastern field Their knighthood's best array . ' Twas ...
Page 62
... wave ; * The battle of Flodden was fought between the English , com- manded by Earl Surrey , and the Scots , commanded by their King , James the Fourth , in 1513. The Scots were defeated , with the loss of from eight to ten thousand men ...
... wave ; * The battle of Flodden was fought between the English , com- manded by Earl Surrey , and the Scots , commanded by their King , James the Fourth , in 1513. The Scots were defeated , with the loss of from eight to ten thousand men ...
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Common terms and phrases
Adelaide Anne Procter battle of Ivry battle of Killiecrankie beneath bird bless blest bloom Born bosom bower brave breast breath bright brow Casa Wappy charms cheerful cloud cold dark David Macbeth Moir dear death deep delight Died dost doth earth eternal eyes fair farewell fear flame flow flower gaze glory glowing grace grave green Grongar Hill hand happy hast hath heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre Henry of Navarre hills hope hour King light Lochaber looked Lord MARGUERITE OF FRANCE morning mother Mother's Love mourn nature's ne'er never Nevermore night o'er peace pleasure praise pride Queen Quoth the Raven rise rose round shade shore sigh sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sound spring star stream sweet tears thee thine thou art throne toil trembling Twas vale voice waves weep wild wind wing Yarrow youth
Popular passages
Page 26 - Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door — Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as
Page 25 - Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,— " Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, " art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore !" Quoth the Raven,
Page 29 - thing of evil ! — prophet still, if bird or devil ! By that Heaven that bends above us — by that God we both adore — Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore — Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore?
Page 28 - Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!' Quoth the Raven 'Nevermore.' 'Prophet!' said I, 'thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil! Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted On this home by Horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!
Page 22 - Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore, Nameless here for evermore.
Page 47 - Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease, Seats of my youth, when every sport could please, How often have I loitered o'er thy green, Where humble happiness endeared each scene...
Page 48 - Along thy glades, a solitary guest, The hollow-sounding bittern guards its nest ; Amidst thy desert walks the lapwing flies, And tires their echoes with unvaried cries ; Sunk are thy bowers in shapeless ruin all, And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering wall ; And trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand, Far, far away thy children leave the land.
Page 6 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Page 46 - ON Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden, saw another sight, When the drum beat, at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Page 23 - And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me— filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "* Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door, Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door: This it is and nothing more.