The Edinburgh Review: Or Critical Journal, Volume 12A. Constable, 1808 |
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Page 16
... faid ; So far was heard the mighty knell , The ftag fprung up on Cheviot Fell , Spread his broad noftril to the wind , Lifted before , afide , behind ; Then couched him down befide the hind , And quaked among the mountain fern , To hear ...
... faid ; So far was heard the mighty knell , The ftag fprung up on Cheviot Fell , Spread his broad noftril to the wind , Lifted before , afide , behind ; Then couched him down befide the hind , And quaked among the mountain fern , To hear ...
Page 20
... faid never a word , ) " O come ye in peace here , or come ye in war , Or to dance at our bridal , young Lord Lochinvar ? " " I long wooed your daughter , my fuit you denied ; - Love fwells like the Solway , but ebbs like its tide- And ...
... faid never a word , ) " O come ye in peace here , or come ye in war , Or to dance at our bridal , young Lord Lochinvar ? " " I long wooed your daughter , my fuit you denied ; - Love fwells like the Solway , but ebbs like its tide- And ...
Page 24
... faid Euftace ; " peace ! " . When , doffed his cafque , he felt free air , Around gan Marmion wildly ftare : - " Where's Harry Blount ? Fitz - Euftace where ? Linger ye here , ye hearts of hare ! Redeem my pennon , -charge again ! Cry ...
... faid Euftace ; " peace ! " . When , doffed his cafque , he felt free air , Around gan Marmion wildly ftare : - " Where's Harry Blount ? Fitz - Euftace where ? Linger ye here , ye hearts of hare ! Redeem my pennon , -charge again ! Cry ...
Page 25
... faid , When , with the Baron's cafque , the maid To the nigh ftreamlet ran : Forgot were hatred , wrongs , and fears ; The plaintive voice alone the hears , Sees but the dying man . She stooped her by the runnel's fide , But in ...
... faid , When , with the Baron's cafque , the maid To the nigh ftreamlet ran : Forgot were hatred , wrongs , and fears ; The plaintive voice alone the hears , Sees but the dying man . She stooped her by the runnel's fide , But in ...
Page 26
... faid , " the while , - O think of your immortal weal ! In vain for Conftance is your zeal ; She died at Holy Ifle . " . Lord Marmion ftarted from the ground , As light as if he felt no wound ; Though in the action burst the tide , In ...
... faid , " the while , - O think of your immortal weal ! In vain for Conftance is your zeal ; She died at Holy Ifle . " . Lord Marmion ftarted from the ground , As light as if he felt no wound ; Though in the action burst the tide , In ...
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Popular passages
Page 450 - Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings; Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; And now,— instead of mounting barbed steeds, To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,— He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
Page 443 - Hence, bashful cunning ! And prompt me, plain and holy innocence ! I am your wife, if you will marry me ; If not, I'll die your maid : to be your fellow You may deny me ; but I'll be your servant, Whether you will or no.
Page 444 - Could great men thunder As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet, For every pelting, petty officer, Would use his heaven for thunder ; Nothing but thunder. Merciful heaven ! Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak, Than the soft myrtle...
Page 18 - Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers and all: Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word.) " O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?
Page 136 - Where the thin harvest waves its withered ears; Rank weeds, that every art and care defy, Reign o'er the land and rob the blighted rye...
Page 355 - Slaves cannot breathe in England ; * if their lungs Receive our air, that moment they are free, They touch our country, and their shackles, fall.
Page 11 - DAY set on Norham's castled steep. And Tweed's fair river, broad and deep. And Cheviot's mountains lone : The battled towers, the donjon keep, The loop-hole grates where captives weep. The flanking walls that round it sweep, In yellow lustre shone.
Page 131 - ... subject: but, instead of new images of tenderness, or delicate representation of intelligible feelings, he has contrived to tell us nothing whatever of the unfortunate fair one, but that her name is Martha Ray ; and that she goes up to the top of a hill, in a red cloak, and cries
Page 134 - Such is that room which one rude beam divides, And naked rafters form the sloping sides; Where the vile bands that bind the thatch are seen, And lath and mud are all that lie between; Save one dull pane, that, coarsely...
Page 18 - So stately his form, and so lovely her face, That never a hall such a galliard did grace; While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; And the bride-maidens whispered, "'Twere better by far, To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.