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Still from the sire the son shall hear Of the stern strife, and carnage drear, Of Flodden's fatal field, When shiver'd was fair Scotland's spear, And broken was her shield!

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
Broken
Scotland
Sire
Shall
Fatal
Spear
Hear
Strife
Carnage
War
Fairs
Stern
Stills
Fair
Shiver
Still
Field
Spears
Son
Shield
Fields
Shields
Drear

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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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The time which passes over our heads so imperceptibly makes the same gradual change in habits, manners and character, as in personal appearance. At the revolution of every five years we find ourselves another and yet the same--there is a change of views, and no less of the light in which we regard them a change of motives as well as of action.
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Dear to me is my bonnie white steed Oft has he helped me at pinch of need.
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What I have to say is far more important than how long my eyelashes are.
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Thou hast had thty day, old dame, but thy sun has long been set. Thou art now the very emblem of an old warhorse turned out on the barren heath thou hast had thy paces in thy time, but now a broken amble is the best of them.
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O, what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive!
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The summer dawn's reflected hue To purple changed Lock Katrine blue, Mildly and soft the western breeze Just kiss'd the lake, just stirr'd the trees, And the pleased lake, like maiden coy, Trembled but dimpled not for joy.
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Just at the age 'twixt boy and youth, When thought is speech, and speech is truth.
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I'll dream no more--by mainly mind Not even in sleep is well resigned. My midnight orisons said o'er, I'll turn to rest and dream no more.
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High minds, of native pride and force, Most deeply feel thy pangs, Remorse Fear, for their scourge, means villains have, Thou art the torturer of the brave!
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Treason seldom dwells with courage.
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Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, morn of toil, nor night of waking.
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Ambition is no cure for love!
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Where, where was Roderick then? One blast upon his bugle horn Were worth a thousand men.
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True love's the gift which God has given To man alone beneath the heaven. It is the secret sympathy, The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, In body and in soul can bind.
Walter Scott
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What skilful limner e'er would choose To paint the rainbow's varying hues, Unless to mortal it were given To dip his brush in dyes of heaven?
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Chivalry!---why, maiden, she is the nurse of pure and high affection---the stay of the oppressed, the redresser of grievances, the curb of the power of the tyrant ---Nobility were but an empty name without her, and liberty finds the best protection in her lance and her sword.
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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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For love is heaven and heaven is love.
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Where shall the lover rest, Whom the fates sever From his true maiden's breast, Parted for ever? Where, through groves deep and high, Sounds the far billow, Where early violets die, Under the willow.
Walter Scott