Poems, songs and ballads of the sea, compiled and arranged by C. Bruce, العدد 631

الغلاف الأمامي
Charles Bruce (writer of tales)
1874
 

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الصفحة 317 - twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song, That makes the heavens be mute. It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune.
الصفحة 307 - The Sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he! And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon -' The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, For he heard the loud bassoon.
الصفحة 324 - Pilot's boat. Upon the whirl, where sank the ship, The boat spun round and round; And all was still, save that the hill Was telling of the sound. I moved my lips — the Pilot shrieked And fell down in a fit; The holy Hermit raised his eyes And prayed where he did sit.
الصفحة 322 - The pilot and the pilot's boy, I heard them coming fast : Dear Lord in heaven ! it was a joy The dead men could not blast. I saw a third — I heard his voice : It is the hermit good ! He singeth loud his godly hymns That he makes in the wood. * He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away The Albatross's blood.
الصفحة 315 - Beyond the shadow of the ship, I watched the water-snakes: They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire.
الصفحة 120 - Toll for the brave! Brave Kempenfelt is gone; His last sea-fight is fought; His work of glory done. It was not in the battle; No tempest gave the shock; She sprang no fatal leak ; She ran upon no rock.
الصفحة 310 - And I had done a hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe : For all averred, I had killed the bird That made the breeze to blow.
الصفحة 311 - There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parched, and glazed each eye. A weary time! a weary time! How glazed each weary eye, When looking westward, I beheld A something in the sky. At first it seemed a little speck, And then it seemed a mist; It moved and moved, and took at last A certain shape, I wist.
الصفحة 322 - On every corse there stood. This seraph-band, each waved his hand: It was a heavenly sight! They stood as signals to the land, Each one a lovely light; 441 This seraph-band, each waved his hand, No voice did they impart — No voice; but oh!
الصفحة 83 - By the festal cities' blaze, Whilst the wine-cup shines in light ; And yet amidst that joy and uproar Let us think of them that sleep, Full many a fathom deep, By thy wild and stormy steep, Elsinore...

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