Sir Walter Scott

St. Leon raised his kindling eye,
And lifts the sparkling cup on high;
"I drink to one," read more

St. Leon raised his kindling eye,
And lifts the sparkling cup on high;
"I drink to one," he said,
"Whose image never may depart,
Deep graven on this grateful heart,
Till memory be dead."
. . . .
St. Leon paused, as if he would
Not breathe her name in careless mood
Thus lightly to another;
Then bent his noble head, as though
To give the word the reverence due,
And gently said, "My mother!"

A foot more light, a step more true,
Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew.

A foot more light, a step more true,
Ne'er from the heath-flower dashed the dew.

As many servants so many enemies.

As many servants so many enemies.

Profan'd the God-given strength, and marr'd the lofty line.

Profan'd the God-given strength, and marr'd the lofty line.

He, who will not pardon others, must not himself expect pardon.

He, who will not pardon others, must not himself expect pardon.