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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.

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
Name
Joys
Names
Hopes
Within
Fears
Love
Vanity
Shame
Ears
Wall
Cloister
Joy
Bounded

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Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.
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I am she, O most bucolical juvenal, under whose charge are placed the milky mothers of the herd.
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One hour of life, crowded to the full with glorious action, and filled with noble risks, is worth whole years of those mean observances of paltry decorum, in which men steal through existence, like sluggish waters through a marsh, without either honor or observation.
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O! many a shaft, at random sent, Finds mark the archer little meant! And many a word, at random spoken, May soothe or wound a heart that's broken!
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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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The misery of keeping a dog is his dying so soon. But, to be sure, if he lived for fifty years and then died, what would become of me?
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And love is loveliest when embalm'd in tears.
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Now, it is well known, that a man may with more impunity be guilty of an actual breach either of real good breeding or of good morals, than appear ignorant of the most minute point of fashionable etiquette.
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A ruin should always be protected but never repaired - thus may we witness full the lingering legacies of the past.
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Lightly from fair to fair he flew, And loved to plead, lament, and sue Suit lightly won, and short-lived pain, For monarchs seldom sigh in vain.
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Time rolls his ceaseless course.
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Loud o'er my head though awful thunders roll, And vivid lightnings flash from pole to pole, Yet 'tis Thy voice, my God, that bids them fly, Thy arm directs those lightnings through the sky. Then let the good Thy mighty name revere, And hardened sinners Thy just vengeance fear.
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So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like young Lochinvar.
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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!
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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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Each must drain His share of pleasure, share of pain.
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Good even, good fair moon, good even to thee. I prithee, dear moon, now show to me the form and the features, the speech and degree, of the man that true lover of mine shall be.
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A rusted nail, placed near the faithful compass, Will sway it from the truth, and wreck the argosy.
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Steady of heart and stout of hand.
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A few drops sprinkled on the torch of love make the flame blaze the brighter.
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