ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة
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arms ATHELWOLD AULUS Bards bear beauty beſt breaſt breathe brother CARACTACUS cauſe charm CHORUS daughter death doth dread Druid DURU Earl earth EDGAR ELFRIDA ELIDURUS Ev'n EVELINA fair faith fall fate father fear firſt give Gods grace grove hand haſt head hear heard heart heav'n hold holy honours hope hour inſtant juſt King lead leave light live look Lord mean meet mind Mona moſt Muſe muſt nature never o'er ORGAR peace pity Prince reſt riſe Romans Rome round ſacred ſave ſay ſcene ſee ſhade ſhall ſhe ſhould ſome ſon ſoul ſtep ſtill ſtrain ſuch ſure ſword tears tell thee theſe thine thoſe thou thought thro throne trembling true Truth Virgins virtue voice whoſe wretch youth
الصفحة 65 - Ev'n from the grave thou shall have power to charm. Bid them be chaste, be innocent, like thee ; Bid them in duty's sphere as meekly move ; And if so fair, from vanity as free ; As firm in friendship, and as fond in love. Tell them, tho' 'tis an awful thing to die, (Twas ev'n to thee) yet the dread path once trod, Heav'n lifts its everlasting portals high. And bids " the pure in heart behold their God.
الصفحة 159 - Gaze on the solemn scene : behold yon oak, How stern he frowns, and with his broad brown arms Chills the pale plain beneath him : mark yon altar, The dark stream brawling round its rugged base, These cliffs, these yawning caverns, this wide circus, Skirted with unhewn stone : they awe my soul, As if the very Genius of the place Himself appear'd, and with terrific tread Stalk'd through his drear domain.
الصفحة 178 - To whom my youth was constant; 'twas Heav'n's will To take her from me at that very hour, When best her love might sooth me ; that black hour, (May Memory ever raze it from her records) When all my squadrons fled, and left their king Old and defenceless : him, who nine whole years Had taught them how to conquer : Yes, my friends, For nine whole years against the sons of rapine I led my veterans, oft to victory, Never 'till then to shame.
الصفحة 204 - tis thus. CHORUS. We trust thou do'st not. CARACTACUS. Masters of Wisdom ! No : my soul confides In that all-healing and all-forming Power, Who on the radiant day when Time was born, Cast his broad eye upon the wild of ocean, And calm'd it with a glance : then plunging deep His mighty arm, pluck'd from its dark domain...
الصفحة 193 - Sublime upon the burnish'd prow, He bad thy manly modes to flow ; Britain heard the descant bold, She flung her white arms o'er the sea ; Proud in her leafy bosom to enfold The freight of harmony. I. 2. Mute 'till then was ev'ry plain, Save where the flood o'er mountains rude Tumbled his tide amain : And Echo from th...
الصفحة 174 - I had a queen : Bear with my weakness, Druid ! this tough breast Must heave a sigh, for she is unreveng'd. And can I taste true peace, she unreveng'd ? So chaste, so lov'da queen ? ah, Evelina ! Hang not thus weeping on the feeble arm That could not save...
الصفحة 66 - To form that harmony of soul and face, Where beauty shines the mirror of the mind. Such was the Maid, that in the morn of youth, In virgin innocence, in Nature's pride, Blest with each art that owes its charm to truth, Sunk in her Father's fond embrace, and died. He weeps...
الصفحة 128 - O earth, cold earth, Upon whose breast I cast this load of mis'ry, Bear it awhile ; and you, ye aged oaks, Ye venerable fathers of this wood, Who oft have cool'd beneath your arching shades My humble ancestors, oft seen them hie To your spread umbrage, from yon sultry field, Their scene of honest labour, shade, ah ! shade, The last, the wretchedest of all their race.
الصفحة 60 - Not sink and slumber in your cells of clay. Know, ye were form'd to range yon azure field, In yon ethereal founts of bliss to lave ; Force then, secure in Faith's protecting shield, The sting from Death, the vict'ry from the Grave.
الصفحة 90 - Seek these embow'ring shades ! Meanwhile, my friends, Sooth me with harmony. I know full well That ye were nurs'd in Cornwall's wizard caves, And oft have pac'd the fairy-peopled vales Of Devon, where Posterity retains Some vein of that old minstrelsy, which breath'd Through each time-honour'd grove of British oak.