agen Alpine's arms ballad band bard battle blade blood bold brand Brantome brave breast broad-sword brow called CANTO castle chase chief Chieftain clan Clan-Alpine's Dæmon dark deep deer Douglas dread Duergar Ellen Engravings fair fairy fear Fiery Cross Fitz-James Gael gallant glance glen grace grey hand harp head hear heard heart heath heaven Highland hill honoured hounds isle James John Gunn King king's LADY lake land Loch-Katrine Lord loud lowland Macgregor maid maiden Malise merry Minstrel morning mountain ne'er night noble Note o'er pass pibroch plaid POEM pride RICHARD WESTALL rock Roderick Dhu round Rowland Yorke Saint Modan Saxon Scotland Scottish shallop side sire snood song sound spear speed stag steed Stirling Stirling Castle stood stranger sword tear thee thine thou tide Twas Urisk Volumes warrior wave western isles wild yonder ZACHARY GREY
Page 5 - The stag at eve had drunk his fill, Where danced the moon on Monan's rill, And deep his midnight lair had made In lone Glenartney's hazel shade...
Page 118 - But our flower was in flushing, When blighting was nearest. Fleet foot on the correi,* Sage counsel in cumber Red hand in the foray, How sound is thy slumber ! Like the dew on the mountain, Like the foam on the river, Like the bubble on the fountain Thou art gone, and for ever ! XVII.
Page 202 - Have, then, thy wish !" — He whistled shrill, And he was answered from the hill; Wild as the scream of the curlew, From crag to crag the signal flew. Instant, through copse and heath, arose Bonnets and spears and bended bows; On right, on left, above, below, Sprung up at once the lurking foe...
Page 209 - Fate, by prophet bred Between the living and the dead: 'Who spills the foremost foeman's life, His party- conquers in the strife.'" — "Then, by my word," the Saxon said, "The riddle is already read. Seek yonder brake beneath the cliff, — There lies Red Murdoch, stark and stiff. Thus Fate has solved her prophecy, Then yield to Fate, and not to me.
Page 209 - And hear, — to fire thy flagging zeal, — The Saxon cause rests on thy steel; For thus spoke Fate, by prophet bred Between the living and the dead: 'Who spills the foremost foeman's life, His party- conquers in the strife.
Page 210 - Who ill deserved my courteous' care, And whose best boast is but to wear A braid of his fair lady's hair.' 'I thank thee, Roderick, for the word! It nerves my heart, it steels my sword ; For I have sworn this braid to stain In the best blood that warms thy vein. Now, truce, farewell! and, ruth, begone!
Page 211 - I thank thee, Roderick, for the word ! It nerves my heart, it steels my sword ; For I have sworn this braid to stain In the best blood that warms thy vein. Now, truce, farewell ! and ruth, begone ! — Yet think not that by thee alone, Proud Chief ! can courtesy be shown ; Though not from copse, or heath, or cairn, Start at my whistle clansmen stern, Of this small horn one feeble blast Would fearful odds against thee cast. But fear not — doubt not — which thou wilt — We try this quarrel hilt...
Page 289 - HARP of the North, farewell ! The hills grow dark, On purple peaks a deeper shade descending; In twilight copse the glow-worm lights her spark, The deer, half-seen, are to the covert wending. Resume thy wizard elm ! the fountain lending, And the wild breeze, thy wilder minstrelsy ; Thy numbers sweet with nature's vespers blending, With distant echo from the fold and lea, And herd-boy's evening pipe, and hum of housing bee.
Page 18 - Down to the lake in masses threw Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurled, The fragments of an earlier world ; A wildering forest feathered o'er His ruined sides and summit hoar, While on the north, through middle air, Ben-an heaved high his forehead bare.