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The Bridal of Triermain, or the Vale of St John [by Sir W. Scott. in Verse]. [followed By] Harold the Dauntless
The Bridal of Triermain or the Vale of St John Harold the Dauntless - by Sir W. Scott. in Verse - followed By Author:Walter Scott Subtitle: A Poem. by the Author of 'the Bridal of Triermain'. General Books publication date: 2009 Original publication date: 1817 Notes: This is a black and white OCR reprint of the original. It has no illustrations and there may be typos or missing text. When you buy the General Books edition of this book you get free trial access to Milli... more »on-Books.com where you can select from more than a million books for free. Excerpt: FRAGMENTS. THE POACHER. Welcome, grave Stranger, to our green retreats, Where health with exercise and freedom meets 1 Thrice welcome, Sage, whose philosophic plaa By Nature's limits metes the rights of man ; Generous as he, who now for freedom bawls, . Now gives full value for true Indian shawls ; O'er court, o'er custom-bouse, his shoe who flings, Now bilks excisemen, and now bullies kings. Like his, I ween, thy comprehensive mind Holds laws as mouse-traps baited for mankind; Thine eye, applausive,' each sly vermin sees, That baulks the snare, yet battens on the cheese; Thine ear has heard, with scorn instead of awe, Our buckskin'd justices expound the law, Wire-draw the acts that fix for wires the pain, And for the netted partridge noose the swain; And thy vindictive arm would fain have broke The last light fetter of the feudal yoke, To give the denizens of wood and wild, Nature's free race, to each her free-born child. Hencehast thoumark'd, with grief, fair London's race Mock'd with the boon of one poor Easter chace, And long'd to send them forth as free as when Pour'd o'er Chantilly the Parisian train, When musquet, pistol, blunderbuss, combined, And scarce the field-pieces were left behind! A squadron's charge each leveret's heart dismay'd, On every covey fired a bold brigade; La Douce Humanite approved the sport, / For great the alarm indeed, yet small the hurt; Shouts patriotic solemnized the day, And Seine re-echo'd Vive la Lilerte ! But mad Citoyen, meek Monsieur aga...« less