Waverley Novels: Rob Roy. The heart of Mid-Lothian

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R. Cadell, 1843

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第 511 頁 - And airy tongues that syllable men's names On sands and shores and desert wildernesses. These thoughts may startle well, but not astound The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended By a strong siding champion, Conscience.
第 314 頁 - Atlantic wave ? Is India free ? and does she wear her plumed And jewelled turban with a smile of peace, Or do we grind her still? The grand debate, The popular harangue, the tart reply, The logic, and the wisdom, and the wit...
第 385 頁 - All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence? We, Hermia, like two artificial gods, Have with our needles created both one flower, Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion, Both warbling of one song, both in one key; As if our hands, our sides...
第 259 頁 - Damnation !" he said, muttering betwixt his teeth — " How fell that, sir ? Speak out, sir, and do not Maister or Campbell me — my foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor...
第 267 頁 - They shall hear of my vengeance that would scorn to listen to the story of my wrongs. The miserable Highland drover, bankrupt, barefooted, stripped of alL dishonoured and hunted down, because the avarice of others grasped at more than that poor all could pay, shall burst on them in an awful change. They that scoffed at the grovelling worm and trode upon him may cry and howl when they see the stoop of the flying and fiery-mouthed dragon. But why do I speak of all this?
第 241 頁 - She gave a brief command in Gaelic to her attendants, two of whom seized upon the prostrate suppliant and hurried him to the brink of a cliff which overhung the flood. He set up the most piercing and dreadful cries that fear ever uttered — I may well term them dreadful, for they haunted my sleep for years afterwards.
第 453 頁 - Sweet sister, let me live : What sin you do to save a brother's life, Nature dispenses with the deed so far, That it becomes a virtue.
第 158 頁 - Looking tranquillity ! It strikes an awe And terror on my aching sight ; the tombs And monumental caves of death look cold, And shoot a chillness to my trembling heart. Give me thy hand, and let me hear thy voice; Nay, quickly speak to me, and let me hear Thy voice — my own affrights me with its echoes.
第 157 頁 - Papery, and idolatry, and image worship, and surplices, and sic like rags o' the muckle hure that sitteth on seven hills, as if ane wasna braid eneugh for her auld hinder end. Sae the commons o' Renfrew, and o' the Barony, and the Gorbals, and a' about, they behoved to come into Glasgow ae fair morning, to try their hand on purging the High Kirk o
第 157 頁 - Glasgow, they were feared their auld edifice might slip the girths in gaun through siccan rough physic, sae they rang the common bell, and assembled the train-bands wi' took o' drum. By good luck, the worthy James Rabat was Dean o...

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