The Pleasures of Hope: With Other Poems
Mundell, Doig, & Stevenson, 1810 - 131 pages
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Page 30 - The sun went down, nor ceased the carnage there. Tumultuous Murder shook the midnight air — On Prague's proud arch the fires of ruin glow, His blood-dyed waters murmuring far below; The storm prevails, the rampart yields a way, Bursts the wild cry of horror and dismay!
Page 68 - What though each spark of earth-born rapture fly 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!
Page 83 - Eternal Hope ! when yonder spheres sublime Pealed their first notes to sound the march of Time, Thy joyous youth began — but not to fade. — When all the sister planets have decayed ; When...
Page 75 - Oh ! let her read, nor loudly, nor elate, The doom that bars us from a better fate ; But, sad as angels for the good man's sin, Weep to record, and blush to give it in ! And well may Doubt, the mother of Dismay, Paise at her martyr's tomb, and read the lay.
Page 29 - 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 19 - Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps, Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps; She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies, Smiles on her slumbering child with pensive eyes, And weaves a song of melancholy joy— " Sleep, image of thy father, sleep, my boy: No lingering hour of sorrow shall be thine; No sigh that rends thy father's heart and mine; Bright as his manly sire the son shall be In form and soul; but, ah! more blest than he!
Page 69 - Chased on his night-steed by the star of day ! 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...
Page 32 - Yes ! thy proud lords, unpitied land ! shall see * That man hath yet a soul — and dare be free ! A little while, along thy saddening plains, The starless night of desolation reigns ; Truth shall restore the light by Nature given, And, like Prometheus, bring the fire of Heaven ! Prone to the dust Oppression shall be hurl'd, Her name, her nature, wither'd from the world...
Page 28 - 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 — the watchword and reply; Then pealed the notes, omnipotent to charm, And the loud tocsin tolled their last alarm!