The Pleasures of Hope, with Other PoemsLongman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, ... and Doig and Stirling, Edinburgh, 1817 - English poetry - 136 pages |
From inside the book
Page 29
... Low murmuring sounds along their banners fly , Revenge , or death , the watch - word and reply ; Then peal'd the notes , omnipotent to charm , And the loud tocsin toll'd their last alarm ! In vain , alas ! in vain , ye gallant few !
... Low murmuring sounds along their banners fly , Revenge , or death , the watch - word and reply ; Then peal'd the notes , omnipotent to charm , And the loud tocsin toll'd their last alarm ! In vain , alas ! in vain , ye gallant few !
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Common terms and phrases
afar beauty bleed bliss blood bosom bowers brave bright brow burst cease charm child clime close cold command cried dark deed deep delight dread dust earth eternal fair fall Fancy fate feel fields fire fond friendless glow hand Hark hath hear heart Heaven heavenly Hope hour Hussar Indian kind land life's light lingering live lonely look midnight mind mingles morn Murder murmur Muse native Nature Nature's never night NOTE o'er once pang Peace pensive picture pity plain PLEASURES poor proud rapture rocks sacred scenes shade shore sigh slumber smile song sooth sorrow soul spirit star storm stream strings sublime sweep sweet tears Tell thee thou thought trembling triumph true Truth vale warm watch wave weep wheels wild winds winged
Popular passages
Page 30 - 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...
Page 28 - Oh, bloodiest picture in the book of Time, Sarmatia fell, unwept, without a crime ; Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe, Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe...
Page 52 - The world was sad! — the garden was a wild! And man, the hermit, sigh'd — till woman smiled!
Page 70 - Oh ! lives there, Heaven ! beneath thy dread expanse, One hopeless, dark idolater of Chance, Content to feed, with pleasures unrefined, The lukewarm passions of a lowly mind ; Who, mouldering earthward, 'reft of every trust, In joyless union wedded to the dust, Could all his parting energy dismiss, And call this barren world sufficient bliss...
Page 26 - Peal'd her loud drum, and twang'd her trumpet horn Tumultuous horror brooded o'er her van, Presaging wrath to Poland — and to man ! Warsaw's last champion from her height survey'd, Wide o'er the fields, a waste of ruin laid, — "O Heaven !" he cried, "my bleeding country save !-•Is there no hand on high to shield the brave?
Page 20 - Chide not his peace, proud Reason; nor destroy The shadowy forms of uncreated joy, That urge the lingering tide of life, and pour Spontaneous slumber on his midnight hour. Hark!
Page 73 - This frail and feverish being of an hour ; Doomed o'er the world's precarious scene to sweep, Swift as the tempest travels on the deep, To know Delight but by her parting smile, And toil, and wish, and weep a little while ; Then melt, ye elements, that formed in vain This troubled pulse, and visionary brain ! Fade, ye wild flowers, memorials of my doom, And sink, ye stars, that light me to the tomb...
Page 24 - Come, bright Improvement ! on the car of Time, And rule the spacious world from clime to clime; L Thy handmaid arts shall every wild explore, Trace every wave, and culture every shore.
Page 8 - When all is still on Death's devoted soil, The march-worn soldier mingles for 'the toil ; As rings his glittering tube, he lifts on high The dauntless brow, and spirit-speaking eye, Hails in his heart the triumph yet to come, And hears thy stormy music in the drum ! And such thy strength-inspiring aid that bore The hardy Byron to his native shore.
Page 27 - Heaven ! he cried, my bleeding country save : Is there no hand on high to shield the brave ? Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains, Rise, fellow-men ! our country yet remains ! By that dread name, we wave the sword on high, And swear for her to live ! — with her to die...
Bibliographic information
| Title | The Pleasures of Hope, with Other Poems |
| Author | Thomas Campbell |
| Publisher | Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, ... and Doig and Stirling, Edinburgh, 1817 |
| Original from | Oxford University |
| Digitized | 26 Sep 2006 |
| Length | 136 pages |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |