Results with search term: 'walter scott'

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Breathes there a man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ?	Walter Scott
Like the dew on the mountain, Like the foam on the river, Like the bubble on the fountain, Thou art gone, and for ever !	Walter Scott
O, What a tangled web we weave, When first we practice to deceive!	Walter Scott
One crowded hour of glorious life is worth an age without a name.	Walter Scott
True love’s the gift of which God has given to man alone beneath the heaven.	Walter Scott