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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
Translator
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
Bearded
Awaits
Woe
Sees
Tears
Country
Men

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But with morning cool repentance came.
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As hope and fear alternate chase Our course through life's uncertain race.
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Just at the age 'twixt boy and youth, When thought is speech, and speech is truth.
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My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.
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To the timid and hesitating everything is impossible because it seems so.
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To all, to each, a fair good-night, and pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.
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England was merry England, when Old Christmas brought his sports again. 'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale 'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale A Christmas gambol oft could cheer The poor man's heart through half the year.
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There never will exist anything permanently noble and excellent in the character which is a stranger to resolute self-denial.
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A sound head, an honest heart, and an humble spirit are the three best guides through time and to eternity.
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Never was flattery lost on a poet's ear a simple race, they waste their toil for the vain tribute of a smile.
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Every hour has its end.
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In that pleasant district of merry England which is watered by the river Don, there extended in ancient times a large forest, covering the greater part of the beautiful hills and valleys which lie between Sheffield and the pleasant town of Doncaster.
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So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like young Lochinvar.
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Love, to her ear, was but a name, Combin'd with vanity and shame Her hopes, her fears, her joys, were all Bounded within the cloister wall.
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Commend me to sterling honesty though clad in rags.
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But search the land of living men, Where wilt thou find their like again?
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Come one, come all! this rock shall fly From its firm base, as soon as I.
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For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of Lochinvar.
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Oh, poverty parts good company.
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Ridicule often checks what is absurd, and fully as often smothers that which is noble.
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