1812, the War and Its Moral: A Canadian Chronicle, Volume 29

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John Lovell, 1864 - 296 pages

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Page 20 - When the oldest cask is opened, And the largest lamp is lit; When the chestnuts glow in the embers, And the kid turns on the spit...
Page 92 - The foe! they come, they come!" And wild and high the " Cameron's gathering " rose ! The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills' Have heard — and heard too have her Saxon foes : — How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which...
Page 157 - Gainst graver hours that bring constraint To sweeten liberty : Some bold adventurers disdain The limits of their little reign, And unknown regions dare descry : Still as they run they look behind, They hear a voice in every wind, And snatch a fearful joy.
Page 19 - I smell the blood of an Englishman, Be he alive or be he dead, I'll grind his bones to make my bread.
Page 20 - ... lamp is lit ; When the chestnuts glow in the embers, And the kid turns on the spit ; When young and old in circle Around the firebrands close ; When the girls are weaving baskets, And the lads are shaping bows ; LXX.
Page 174 - Ever charming, ever new, When will the landscape tire the view; The fountain's fall, the river's flow, The woody valleys, warm and low ; The windy summit, wild and high, Roughly rushing on the sky! The pleasant seat, the ruined tower, The naked rock, the shady bower ; The town and village, dome and farm, Each give each a double charm, As pearls upon an ^Ethiop's arm.
Page 186 - France, a great terror fell upon this kingdom. On a sudden we awakened from our dreams of conquest, and saw ourselves threatened with an immediate invasion, which we were at that time very ill prepared to resist.
Page 92 - Cameron's gathering' rose, The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: — How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills...
Page 182 - Is it for myself, then, that I should oppress you? For what should I oppress you ? Is it from ambition? What can you give me ? Is it for power ? Alas! my good friends ! with a life ebbing not slowly to its period, under the pressure of disease acquired in the service of my country, I look only to pass, what it may please God to suffer to remain of it, in the comfort of retirement among my friends. I remain among you only in obedience to the commands of my king. What power can...
Page 82 - Give back the lost and lovely ! those for whom The place was kept at board and hearth so long ! The prayer went up through midnight's breathless gloom, And the vain yearning woke 'midst festal song ! Hold fast thy buried isles, thy towers o'erthrown — But all is not thine own.

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