From Thomas Campbell to Marquis of LorneHarper, 1876 |
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Страница 8
... look his evening prayer , Or gazing , mutely pensive sits to hear The mournful ballad warbled in his ear ; How fondly looks admiring HOPE the while , At every artless tear , and every smile ; How glows the joyous parent to descry A ...
... look his evening prayer , Or gazing , mutely pensive sits to hear The mournful ballad warbled in his ear ; How fondly looks admiring HOPE the while , At every artless tear , and every smile ; How glows the joyous parent to descry A ...
Страница 18
... look , resembling me ? Yet seems it , even while life's last pulses run , A sweetness in the cup of death to be , Lord of my bosom's love ! to die beholding thee ! " Hushed were his Gertrude's lips ! but still their bland And beautiful ...
... look , resembling me ? Yet seems it , even while life's last pulses run , A sweetness in the cup of death to be , Lord of my bosom's love ! to die beholding thee ! " Hushed were his Gertrude's lips ! but still their bland And beautiful ...
Страница 22
... Look proudly to heaven from the death - bed of fame . THE LAST MAN.1 All worldly shapes shall melt in gloom , - The sun himself must die , - Before this mortal shall assume Its immortality ! I saw a vision in my sleep , That gave my ...
... Look proudly to heaven from the death - bed of fame . THE LAST MAN.1 All worldly shapes shall melt in gloom , - The sun himself must die , - Before this mortal shall assume Its immortality ! I saw a vision in my sleep , That gave my ...
Страница 23
... look'd smiling bright O'er a wide and woeful sight , Where the fires of fun'ral light Died away.- Now joy , Old England , raise ! For the tidings of thy might , By the festal cities ' blaze , Whilst the wine - cup shines in light ; And ...
... look'd smiling bright O'er a wide and woeful sight , Where the fires of fun'ral light Died away.- Now joy , Old England , raise ! For the tidings of thy might , By the festal cities ' blaze , Whilst the wine - cup shines in light ; And ...
Страница 24
... look'd on the ground . In silence they reach'd over mountain and moor , To a heath where the oak - tree grew lonely and hoar ; - " Now here let us place the gray stone of her cairn : " Sad is my fate ! " said the heart - broken stranger ...
... look'd on the ground . In silence they reach'd over mountain and moor , To a heath where the oak - tree grew lonely and hoar ; - " Now here let us place the gray stone of her cairn : " Sad is my fate ! " said the heart - broken stranger ...
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Allan Cunningham auld bairns beauty beneath Blackwood's Magazine bless bloom born bosom bower braes brave breast breath bright brow burn canna cauld cloud dark dear death deep doun dream earth Edinburgh fair father flowers frae Glasgow glen glory grave gray green grief ha'e hame hand happy hath hear heart heaven hills hope hour John Frost land lassie light lonely Lord mair maun morn mother mountain native ne'er neath never night o'er poems poet poetical Renfrewshire round sang Scotland Scottish shore sigh sing Sir Walter Scott sleep smile song sorrow soul spirit star stream summer sweet tears Tharaw thee thine thou thought tree Twas University of Edinburgh University of Glasgow voice volume wander wave weary weel ween weep wild wind wing young
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Страница 23 - Tis morn; but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye Brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave! Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry! Few, few shall part, where many meet! The snow shall be their winding-sheet, And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.
Страница 136 - tis not in grief to harm me While thy love is left to me; Oh, 'twere not in joy to charm me Were that joy unmixed with thee. Know, my soul, thy full salvation; Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care; Joy to find in every station Something still to do or bear.
Страница 136 - Man may trouble and distress me ; 'Twill but drive me to Thy breast. Life with trials hard may press me ; Heaven will bring me sweeter rest. O, 'tis not in grief to harm me, While Thy love is left to me ! O, 'twere not in joy to charm me, Were that joy unmixed with Thee.
Страница 68 - A WET sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast And fills the white and rustling sail And bends the gallant mast...
Страница 23 - Like leviathans afloat, Lay their bulwarks on the brine; While the sign of battle flew On the lofty British line : It was ten of April morn by the chime As they drifted on their path, There was silence deep as death; And the boldest held his breath, For a time. But the might of England flushed To anticipate the scene ; And her van the fleeter rushed O'er the deadly space between. ''Hearts of oak...
Страница 81 - By thy helpless infant years, By thy life of want and tears, By thy days of sore distress In the savage wilderness, By the dread mysterious hour Of the insulting tempter's power, Turn, O turn, a favouring eye, Hear our solemn litany.
Страница 20 - 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.
Страница 23 - Ye are brothers ! ye are men ! And we conquer but to save : So peace instead of death let us bring ; But yield, proud foe, thy fleet, With the crews, at England's feet, And make submission meet To our king.
Страница 136 - ABIDE with me ; fast falls the eventide ; The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide ; When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me.
Страница 18 - Forbid not thee to weep : — Nor will the Christian host, Nor will thy father's spirit grieve, To see thee, on the battle's eve, Lamenting, take a mournful leave Of her who loved thee most : She was the rainbow to thy sight ; Thy sun — thy heaven — of lost delight! " To-morrow let us do or die! But when the bolt of death is hurl'd, Ah ! whither then with thee to fly, Shall Outalissi roam the world?