Bruce and the Abbot (Sir Walter Scott Poems)
The Abbot on the threshold stood,And in his hand the holy rood:Then, cloaking hate with fiery zeal,Proud Lorn first answered ...
The Abbot on the threshold stood,And in his hand the holy rood:Then, cloaking hate with fiery zeal,Proud Lorn first answered ...
From a rude isle, his ruder lineage came.The spark, that, from a suburb hovel's hearthAscending, wraps some capital in flame,Hath ...
TO mute and to material things New life revolving summer brings; The genial call dead Nature hears, And in her ...
Thy hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright As in that well - remember'd night When first thy mystic braid ...
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