The Poetical Works of Thomas Campbell: With a MemoirJ. Miller, 1840 - 398 pages |
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Page 9
... lonely wilds afar , And told the path - a never - setting star : So , heavenly Genius , in thy course divine , HOPE is thy star , her light is ever thine . " Propitious Power ! when rankling cares annoy The sacred home of Hymenean joy ...
... lonely wilds afar , And told the path - a never - setting star : So , heavenly Genius , in thy course divine , HOPE is thy star , her light is ever thine . " Propitious Power ! when rankling cares annoy The sacred home of Hymenean joy ...
Page 15
... lonely glen Shall start to view the glittering haunts of men , And silent watch , on woodland heights around , The village curfew as it tolls profound . In Libyan groves , where damned rites are done , That bathe the rocks in blood ...
... lonely glen Shall start to view the glittering haunts of men , And silent watch , on woodland heights around , The village curfew as it tolls profound . In Libyan groves , where damned rites are done , That bathe the rocks in blood ...
Page 40
... lonely vale , When Jordan hush'd his waves , and midnight still Watch'd on the holy towers of Zion hill ! Soul of the just ! companion of the dead ! Where is thy home , and whither art thou fled ? Back to its heavenly source thy being ...
... lonely vale , When Jordan hush'd his waves , and midnight still Watch'd on the holy towers of Zion hill ! Soul of the just ! companion of the dead ! Where is thy home , and whither art thou fled ? Back to its heavenly source thy being ...
Page 45
... lonely hermit in the vale of years ; Say , can the world one joyous thought bestow To Friendship , weeping at the couch of Woe ? No ! but a brighter soothes the last adieu , -- Souls of impassion'd mould , she speaks to you ! Weep not ...
... lonely hermit in the vale of years ; Say , can the world one joyous thought bestow To Friendship , weeping at the couch of Woe ? No ! but a brighter soothes the last adieu , -- Souls of impassion'd mould , she speaks to you ! Weep not ...
Page 47
... lonely rank grass waving in the breeze ; Who then will soothe thy grief , when mine is o'er ? Who will protect thee , helpless Ellenore ? Shall secret scenes thy filial sorrows hide , Scorn'd by the world , to factious guilt allied ? Ah ...
... lonely rank grass waving in the breeze ; Who then will soothe thy grief , when mine is o'er ? Who will protect thee , helpless Ellenore ? Shall secret scenes thy filial sorrows hide , Scorn'd by the world , to factious guilt allied ? Ah ...
Autres éditions - Tout afficher
The Poetical Works of Thomas Campbell: Including Poland &c Thomas Campbell Affichage du livre entier - 1841 |
Expressions et termes fréquents
adieu amidst ANTISTROPHE arms battle beauty Beauty's beneath bleeding blood bosom bower brave breast breath bright Britons brow burst burst of joy charms child clime cried Culdee dark dead dear death deep doom'd dream dust earth England Erin go bragh ev'n fair fame fate fire flower Freedom's Gertrude grief hallow'd hand hath heard heart Heaven HOPE hour hush'd Hyænas Indian infanticide Innisfail Irish isles kindred land life's light living Lochiel lonely look'd Love's Loxian lyre mind morn mountain Muse Nature's ne'er night o'er pale peace Poland pride proud psaltery rapture rocks sacred scene scorn Scotland second sight seem'd shade shore sigh sight sire smile song soul spirit stamp'd star storm sweet sword tears thee THEODRIC thine thou thought tomb trumpet Twas Vex'd wampum waves weep wild winds wing woods youth
Fréquemment cités
Page 94 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow...
Page 106 - I'll forgive your Highland chief. My daughter ! Oh ! my daughter...
Page 335 - There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me for revenge. I have sought it : I have killed many : I have fully glutted my vengeance : for my country I rejoice at the beams of peace. But do not harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear.
Page 94 - Our song and feast shall flow To the fame of your name, When the storm has ceased to blow, — When the fiery fight is heard no more, And the storm has ceased to blow.
Page 93 - Ye Mariners of England That guard our native seas, Whose flag has braved a thousand years The battle and the breeze! Your glorious standard launch again To match another foe, And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do' blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Page 90 - Go, preach to the coward, thou death-telling seer! Or, if gory Culloden so dreadful appear, Draw, dotard, around thy old wavering sight, This mantle, to cover the phantoms of fright. Wizard Ha ! laugh'st thou, Lochiel, my vision to scorn ? Proud bird of the mountain, thy plume shall be torn ! Say, rush'd the bold eagle exultingly forth, From his home, in the dark-rolling clouds of the north...
Page 104 - I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, And this Lord Ullin's daughter. And fast before her father's men, Three days we've fled together; For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather. His horsemen hard behind us ride; Should they our steps discover, Then who will cheer my bonny bride, When they have slain her lover?
Page 335 - I appeal to any white man to say, if ever he entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him not meat; if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the course of the last long and bloody war, Logan remained idle in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the Whites, that my countrymen pointed as they passed, and said, ' Logan is the friend of white men.
Page 102 - But the day-star attracted his eye's sad devotion, For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean, Where once, in the fire of his youthful emotion, He sang the bold anthem of Erin go bragh. Sad is my fate...
Page 112 - By the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain, At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw; And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.