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abbot adieu Agincourt amidst Aodh arms bade beauty beauty's beneath bitter bless'd blest blood bore bosom Bourrit bower brave breast breath bright Britons brow charms child chivalry Constance cried Culdees dame death DOMESTIC TALE Dorset Street Drachenfells dreamt dying e'er earth England ev'n eyes fair faith fame fate felt flush'd Gael gave glaciers gloom glory graced grief hands heart Heaven Helvetian holy Innisfail Iona Iona's isle Julia kindred Kinghorn kiss knew knight land life's light lips look'd love's memory mind Muse's ne'er o'er pain pale pass'd peace pride reach'd remnant Reullura Rhine Ritter Bann Roland Rolandseck Saint scene scorn Scotland seem'd ship sigh smile SONG soul spirit spoke sprite Stamp'd star sweet Switzerland sword tears tell temple thee Theodric thine thou art thought told torch Twas Tyrol Udolph Ulvfagre Vex'd wept whilst words youth
Page 112 - Go, Sun, while Mercy holds me up On Nature's awful waste, To drink this last and bitter cup Of grief that man shall taste — Go, tell the night that hides thy face, Thou saw'st the last of Adam's race, On Earth's sepulchral clod, The darkening universe defy To quench his Immortality, Or shake his trust in God ! CAMPBELL.
Page 64 - His was the spell o'er hearts Which only Acting lends, — The youngest of the sister Arts, Where all their beauty blends : For ill can Poetry express Full many a tone of thought sublime ; And Painting, mute and motionless, Steals but a glance of time. But by the mighty actor brought, Illusion's perfect triumphs come,— Verse ceases to be airy thought, And Sculpture to be dumb.
Page 55 - O'er mountain, tower, and town, Or, mirrored in the ocean vast, A thousand fathoms down ! As fresh in yon horizon dark, As young thy beauties seem. As when the eagle from the ark First sported in thy beam. For, faithful to its sacred page, Heaven still rebuilds thy span • Nor lets the type grow pale with age That first spoke peace to man.
Page 110 - His pomp, his pride, his skill , And arts that made fire, flood, and earth, The vassals of his will; — Yet mourn I not thy parted sway, Thou dim discrowned king of day For all those trophied arts And triumphs that beneath thee sprang, Heal'd not a passion or a pang Entail'd on human hearts.
Page 84 - AGAIN to the battle, Achaians ! Our hearts bid the tyrants defiance ; Our land, the first garden of Liberty's tree — It has been, and shall yet be, the land of the free : For the cross of our faith is replanted, The pale dying crescent is daunted, And we march that the foot-prints of Mahomet's slaves May be washed out in blood from our forefathers
Page 54 - O'er mountains yet untrod, Each mother held aloft her child To bless the bow of God. Methinks thy jubilee to keep, The first-made anthem rang On earth delivered from the deep, And the first poet sang. Nor ever shall the Muse's...
Page 109 - ... hands; In plague and famine some ! Earth's cities had no sound nor tread; And ships were drifting with the dead To...
Page 41 - No ! imaged in the sanctuary of your breast, There let me smile, amidst high thoughts at rest ; And let contentment on your spirit shine, As if its peace were still a part of mine : For, if you war not proudly with your pain, For you I shall have worse than lived in vain. But I conjure your manliness to bear My loss with noble spirit — not despair ; I ask you by our love to promise this, And kiss these words, where I have left a kiss, — The latest from my living lips for yours.
Page 92 - ... tis thou That send'st it from above, Appearing when Heaven's breath and brow Are sweet as hers we love. Come to the luxuriant skies, Whilst the landscape's odours rise, Whilst far-off lowing herds are heard And songs when toil is done, From cottages whose smoke unstirr'd Curls yellow in the sun. Star of love's soft interviews, Parted lovers on thee muse; Their remembrancer in Heaven Of thrilling vows thou art, Too delicious to be riven By absence from the heart.
Page 107 - 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 spirit strength to sweep Adown the gulf of Time ! I saw the last of human mould, That shall Creation's death behold, As Adam saw her prime ! The Sun's eye had a sickly glare, The Earth with age was wan.