The Poetical Works of Thomas Campbell, المجلد 1Henry Colburn, 1828 - 238 من الصفحات |
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الصفحة 27
... Bursts the wide cry of horror and dismay ! Hark ! as the smouldering piles with thunder fall , A thousand shrieks for hopeless mercy call ! Earth shook - red meteors flash'd along the sky , And conscious Nature shudder'd at the cry ! Oh ...
... Bursts the wide cry of horror and dismay ! Hark ! as the smouldering piles with thunder fall , A thousand shrieks for hopeless mercy call ! Earth shook - red meteors flash'd along the sky , And conscious Nature shudder'd at the cry ! Oh ...
الصفحة 32
... burst the Lybian's adamantine bands ? Who , sternly marking on his native soil The blood , the tears , the anguish and the toil , Shall bid each righteous heart exult , to see Peace to the slave , and vengeance on the free ! Yet , yet ...
... burst the Lybian's adamantine bands ? Who , sternly marking on his native soil The blood , the tears , the anguish and the toil , Shall bid each righteous heart exult , to see Peace to the slave , and vengeance on the free ! Yet , yet ...
الصفحة 38
... burst her starry gates again ! He comes ! dread Brama shakes the sunless sky With murmuring wrath , and thunders from on high , Heaven's fiery horse , beneath his warrior form , Paws the light clouds , and gallops on the storm ! Wide ...
... burst her starry gates again ! He comes ! dread Brama shakes the sunless sky With murmuring wrath , and thunders from on high , Heaven's fiery horse , beneath his warrior form , Paws the light clouds , and gallops on the storm ! Wide ...
الصفحة 54
... burst the ties that bound him to the world ! Turn from his dying words , that smite with steel The shuddering thoughts , or wind them on the wheel Turn to the gentler melodies that suit Thalia's harp , 54 PLEASURES OF HOPE .
... burst the ties that bound him to the world ! Turn from his dying words , that smite with steel The shuddering thoughts , or wind them on the wheel Turn to the gentler melodies that suit Thalia's harp , 54 PLEASURES OF HOPE .
الصفحة 68
... , prevailing o'er his sullen doom , As bursts the morn on night's unfathom'd gloom , Lured his dim eye to deathless hopes sublime , Beyond the realms of Nature and of Time ! " And weep not thus , " he cried , 68 PLEASURES OF HOPE .
... , prevailing o'er his sullen doom , As bursts the morn on night's unfathom'd gloom , Lured his dim eye to deathless hopes sublime , Beyond the realms of Nature and of Time ! " And weep not thus , " he cried , 68 PLEASURES OF HOPE .
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amidst ANTISTROPHE arms bark beauty Beauty's beneath bleeding bliss blood bosom bowers Brandt breath bright Briton brow burst burst of Joy calumet charm cheek child clime CONSTANCE cried dear death deep delight doom'd Dorset Street dread dream dust earth enemies ev'n fair fate fire friendship GERTRUDE OF WYOMING Gertrude's glaciers glow grief hand Hark hath heard heart Heaven HOPE hour Indian JULIA kindred knew land life's light living lonely look'd Loxian lyre MEDEA midnight mind mingled mountain murmur Muse Nature Nature's NOTE nursling o'er peace pensive pirogue pride rapture rocks sacred savannas scene seem'd shade shore sigh sire slumber smile song soul spirit STANZA storm sublime sweet sword tears thee THEODRIC THOMAS CAMPBELL thou thought Travels trembling tribe triumph truth Twas UDOLPH vale wampum warriors wave weep wild winds woods youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 180 - 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.
الصفحة 181 - 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 harbour a thought that mine is the joy of fear.
الصفحة 28 - Departed spirits of the mighty dead ! Ye that at Marathon and Leuctra bled ! Friends of the world ! restore your swords to man, Fight in his sacred cause, and lead the van ! Yet for Sarmatia's tears of blood atone, And make her arm puissant as your own ! Oh ! once again to Freedom's cause return The patriot Tell— the Bruce of Bannockburn...
الصفحة 101 - As monumental bronze unchanged his look : A soul that pity touch'd, but never shook : Train'd, from his tree-rock'd cradle to his bier, The fierce extremes of good and ill to brook Impassive — fearing but the shame of fear — A stoic of the woods — a man without a tear.
الصفحة 71 - Inspiring thought of rapture yet to be, The tears of Love were hopeless, but for thee ! If in that frame no deathless spirit dwell, If that faint murmur be the last farewell, If Fate unite the faithful but to part, Why is their memory sacred to the heart ? Why does the brother of my childhood seem...
الصفحة 63 - Are these the pompous tidings ye proclaim, Lights of the world, and demi-gods of fame ? Is this your triumph — this your proud applause, Children of Truth, and champions of her cause...
الصفحة 179 - But do not harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He will not turn on his heel to save his life.
الصفحة 132 - With all his howling desolating band; — These eyes have seen their blade and burning pine Awake at once, and silence half your land. Red is the cup they drink ; but not with wine : Awake, and watch to-night, or see no morning shine ! XVII.
الصفحة 8 - Now far he sweeps, where scarce a summer smiles, On Behring's rocks, or Greenland's naked isles ; Cold on his midnight watch, the breezes blow, From wastes that slumber in eternal snow ; And waft, across the wave's tumultuous roar, The wolf's long howl from Oonalaska's shore.
الصفحة 26 - Firm-paced and slow, a horrid front they form, Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm. Low murmuring sounds along their banners fly, Revenge or death...