Life and Letters of Thomas Campbell, Volume 1

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Page 393 - They are true to the last of their blood and their breath, And like reapers descend to the harvest of death. Then welcome be Cumberland's steed to the shock ! Let him dash his proud foam like a wave on the rock!
Page 341 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak, She quells the floods below As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Page 393 - LOCHIEL, Lochiel ! beware of the day When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array ! For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight, And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight. They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown ; Woe, woe to the riders that trample them down ! Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain, And their hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain.
Page 267 - The strife is o'er the pangs of Nature close, And life's last rapture triumphs o'er her woes. Hark ! as the spirit eyes, with eagle gaze, The noon of Heaven undazzled by the blaze, On heavenly winds that waft her...
Page 32 - Even now what affections the violet awakes; What loved little islands, twice seen in their lakes, Can the wild water-lily restore ; What landscapes I read in the primrose's looks, And what pictures of pebbled and minnowy brooks, In the vetches that tangled their shore. Earth's cultureless buds, to my heart ye were dear, Ere the fever of passion, or ague of fear, Had scathed my existence's bloom ; Once I welcome you more, in life's passionless stage, With the visions of youth to revisit my age, And...
Page 161 - O ! sacred to the fall of day Queen of propitious stars, appear, And early rise, and long delay, When Caroline herself is here ! Shine on her chosen green resort Whose trees the sunward summit crown, And wanton flowers, that well may court An angel's feet to tread them down...
Page 393 - Tis the fire-shower of ruin all dreadfully driven From his eyrie, that beacons the darkness of heaven. Oh, crested Lochiel ! the peerless in might, Whose banners arise on the battlements' height, Heaven's fire is around thee, to blast and to burn ; Return to thy dwelling ! all lonely return ! For the blackness of ashes shall mark where it stood, And a wild mother scream o'er her famishing brood.
Page 1 - SHARPE (S.) The History of Egypt, from the Earliest Times till the Conquest by the Arabs, AD 640.
Page 266 - The quivering lip, pale cheek, and closing eye ! Bright to the soul thy seraph hands convey The morning dream of life's eternal day Then, then, the triumph and the trance begin, And all the phoenix spirit burns within ! Oh ! deep-enchanting prelude to repose, The dawn of bliss, the twilight of our woes ! Yet half I hear the panting spirit sigh, It is a dread and awful thing to die ! Mysterious worlds, untravell'd by the sun!
Page 202 - They lighted a taper at dead of night. And chanted their holiest hymn ; But her brow and her bosom were damp with affright, Her eye was all sleepless and dim, And the Lady of Elderslie wept for her lord, When a death-watch beat in her lonely room, When her curtain had shook of its own accord ; And the raven had...

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