The Poetical Works of Thomas Campbell, Volume 1Henry Colburn, 1828 - 238 pages |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 23
Page 7
... winds to Heav'n again ; All , all forsook the friendless guilty mind , But HOPE , the charmer , linger'd still behind . Thus , while Elijah's burning wheels prepare From Carmel's heights to sweep the fields of air , The prophet's mantle ...
... winds to Heav'n again ; All , all forsook the friendless guilty mind , But HOPE , the charmer , linger'd still behind . Thus , while Elijah's burning wheels prepare From Carmel's heights to sweep the fields of air , The prophet's mantle ...
Page 8
... winds the pilot yields His bark careering o'er unfathom'd fields ; Now on Atlantic waves he rides afar , Where Andes , giant of the western star , With meteor - standard to the winds unfurl'd , Looks from his throne of clouds o'er half ...
... winds the pilot yields His bark careering o'er unfathom'd fields ; Now on Atlantic waves he rides afar , Where Andes , giant of the western star , With meteor - standard to the winds unfurl'd , Looks from his throne of clouds o'er half ...
Page 9
... winds , the shatter'd bark delay ; Thy heart is sad , thy home is far away . But HOPE can here her moonlight vigils ... wind , Treads the loved shore he sigh'd to leave behind ; Meets at each step a friend's familiar face , And PLEASURES ...
... winds , the shatter'd bark delay ; Thy heart is sad , thy home is far away . But HOPE can here her moonlight vigils ... wind , Treads the loved shore he sigh'd to leave behind ; Meets at each step a friend's familiar face , And PLEASURES ...
Page 11
... winds , and cradled on the rock , To wake each joyless morn , and search again The famish'd haunts of solitary men ; Whose race , unyielding as their native storm , Know not a trace of Nature but the form ; Yet , at thy call , the hardy ...
... winds , and cradled on the rock , To wake each joyless morn , and search again The famish'd haunts of solitary men ; Whose race , unyielding as their native storm , Know not a trace of Nature but the form ; Yet , at thy call , the hardy ...
Page 19
... winds that murmur low , And think on all my love , and all my woe ? " So speaks affection , ere the infant eye Can look regard , or brighten in reply ; But when the cherub lip hath learnt to claim A mother's ear by that endearing name ...
... winds that murmur low , And think on all my love , and all my woe ? " So speaks affection , ere the infant eye Can look regard , or brighten in reply ; But when the cherub lip hath learnt to claim A mother's ear by that endearing name ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
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
Popular passages
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 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...
Page 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.
Page 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...
Page 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...
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 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.
Page 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...