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But woe awaits a country when She sees the tears of bearded men.

Walter Scott

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Walter Scott
Age: 61 †
Born: 1771
Born: August 15
Died: 1832
Died: September 21
Baronet Scott
Biographer
Historian
Judge
Lawyer
Linguist
Literary Critic
Musicologist
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Poet Lawyer
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Edinburgh
Scotland
Walter Skott
Jedediah Cleishbotham
Laurence Templeton
Somnambulus
Malachi Malagrowther
Sir Walter Scott
Bart.
Sir Walter Scott
Sir Walter Scott
1st Baronet
Great Magician
The Great Unknown
Men
Bearded
Awaits
Woe
Sees
Tears
Country

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When thinking about companions gone, we feel ourselves doubly alone.
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On his bold visage middle age Had slightly press'd its signet sage, Yet had not quench'd the open truth And fiery vehemence of youth: Forward and frolic glee was there, The will to do, the soul to dare.
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Tell that to the marines - the sailors won't believe it.
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Heap on more wood! - the wind is chill But let it whistle as it will, We'll keep our Christmas merry still.
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Hurry no man's cattle you may come to own a donkey yourself
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The way was long, the wind was cold, The Minstrel was infirm and old His withered cheek, and tresses gray, Seemed to have know a better day.
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Hope is brightest when it dawns from fears.
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The man who is deserving the name is the one whose thoughts and exertions are for others rather than for himself.
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Fortune may raise up or abuse the ordinary mortal, but the sage and the soldier should have minds beyond her control.
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He hath a share of man's intelligence, but no share of man's falsehood.
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My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.
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Breathes there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land.
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He who indulges his sense in any excesses renders himself obnoxious to his own reason and, to gratify the brute in him, displeases the man, and sets his two natures at variance.
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In the lost battle, Borne down by the flying, Where mingles war's rattle With groans of the dying.
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When true friends meet in adverse hour 'Tis like a sunbeam through a shower. A watery way an instant seen, The darkly closing clouds between.
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Steady of heart and stout of hand.
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Marry in haste, repent at leisure.
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Spangling the wave with lights as vain As pleasures in the vale of pain, That dazzle as they fade.
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True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven: It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes soon as granted fly It liveth not in fierce desire.
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Oh, Brignall banks are wild and fair, And Greta woods are green, And you may gather garlands there Would grace a summer's queen.
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