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Novels and tales of the author of Waverley, Volum 5
sir Walter Scott (bart [novels, collected])
Visualització completa - 1822
answered appearance arms assistance attend auld believe Bertram better body Brown called Captain character close Colonel Colonel Mannering Dinmont Dominie door doubt Ellangowan express father fear feelings fire followed gave give Glossin hand Hatteraick Hazlewood head hear heard heart honour hope horse hour interest Julia kind ladies land leave length light live look Lucy Mannering means mind Miss morning natural never night observed occasion officers once pass perhaps person Pleydell poor present prisoner received respect round Sampson scene seemed seen short side Sir Robert soon speak stood strong sure tell there's thing thought took turned voice walk weel whole wish woman wood Woodbourne young
Pàgina 339 - My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time, And makes as healthful music. It is not madness That I have utter'd : bring me to the test, And I the matter will re-word, which madness Would gambol from.
Pàgina 298 - A prison is a house of care. A place where none can thrive, A touchstone true to try a friend, A grave for one alive. Sometimes a place of right. Sometimes a place of wrong, Sometimes a place of rogues and thieves, And honest men among.
Pàgina 268 - I remember the tune well, though I cannot guess what should at present so strongly recall it to my memory. " He took his flageolet from his pocket, and played a simple melody. Apparently the tune awoke the corresponding associations of a damsel...
Pàgina 452 - MAGISTRATE. I hear thy words, I feel thy pain; Forbear awhile to speak thy woes; Receive our aid, and then again The story of thy life disclose. For, though seduced and led astray, Thou'st travell'd far and wander'd long; Thy God hath seen thee all the way, And all the turns that led thee wrong.
Pàgina 35 - Grins fell destruction, to the monster's heart Let the dart lighten from the nervous arm. These Britain knows not; give, ye Britons, then Your sportive fury, pitiless, to pour Loose on the nightly robber of the fold Him, from his craggy winding haunts unearth'd, Let all the thunder of the chase pursue.