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appear arms bear beauty beneath blood bosom breast breath bright called Campbell cause charms chief child course danger dark death deep distress dread earth edition expressed eyes fair Falconer fall fame fate fear feel felt fire give given glow hand happy head hear heard heart Heaven hope hour Indian kind land leave light living look Lord memory mind morn native Nature never night o'er once pain peace plain poem poet rise rocks roll round sacred sail says scene seen severe shade ship shore side sight smile song soon soul sound spirit star storm strain sweet tears tell thee thou thought tide trembling true truth Twas vessel voice wave weep wild wind young youth
Page 98 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave : Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell, Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow...
Page 115 - I'll forgive your Highland chief. My daughter ! Oh ! my daughter...
Page 99 - Our song and feast shall flow To the fame of your name, When the storm has ceased to blow, — When the fiery fight is heard no more, And the storm has ceased to blow.
Page 113 - DAUGHTER A CHIEFTAIN, to the Highlands bound, Cries, "Boatman, do not tarry! And I'll give thee a silver pound, To row us o'er the ferry.
Page 102 - Again! again! again! And the havoc did not slack, Till a feeble cheer the Dane To our cheering sent us back;— Their shots along the deep slowly boom:— Then ceased— and all is wail, As they strike the shatter'd sail; Or in conflagration pale, Light the gloom.
Page 94 - Glenullin ! whose bride shall await, Like a love-lighted watch-fire, all night at the gate. A steed comes at morning : no rider is there ; But its bridle is red with the sign of despair.
Page 235 - But strew his ashes to the wind Whose sword or voice has served mankind, — And is he dead, whose glorious mind Lifts thine on high? — To live in hearts we leave behind Is not to die.
Page 129 - Tis mercy bids thee go; For thou ten thousand thousand years Hast seen the tide of human tears, That shall no longer flow.
Page 95 - Lo !. the death-shot of foemen outspeeding, he rode Companionless, bearing destruction abroad ; But down let him stoop from his havoc on high ! Ah ! home let him speed — for the spoiler is nigh. Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast, Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast ? 'Tis the fire-shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven From his eyrie, that beacons the darkness of heaven. Oh, crested Lochiel ! the peerless in might, Whose banners arise on the battlements...