It was so refreshing to return to early 19th c. poetry. I truly enjoyed Scott’s The Lay of the Last Minstrel. It was an interesting story of romance, border clashes and even a little sorcery. In Canto II, we hear of two stealing into a crypt at night to pry a book of magic from a dead man’s grip. The rhythm of this poem is very fast. I felt pulled through the whole work instead of only reading my way.

But, my initial draw to this work, and one that still remains strongly within me, was in the first stanza of the 6th canto (p.176):

High though his titles, proud his name Boundless his wealth as wish can claim; Despite those titles, power, and pelf, The wretch, concerted all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust, from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonoured, and unsung.