The Poetical Works of Thomas Campbell: With a Memoir |
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Page 1
... Heaven's ethereal bow Spans with bright arch the glittering hills below , Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye , Whose sunbright summit mingles with the sky ? B Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear More sweet.
... Heaven's ethereal bow Spans with bright arch the glittering hills below , Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye , Whose sunbright summit mingles with the sky ? B Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear More sweet.
Page 2
... sweet HOPE ! resides the heavenly light , That pours remotest rapture on the sight : Thine is the charm of life's bewilder'd way , That calls each slumbering passion into play . Waked by thy touch , I see the sister band , On tiptoe ...
... sweet HOPE ! resides the heavenly light , That pours remotest rapture on the sight : Thine is the charm of life's bewilder'd way , That calls each slumbering passion into play . Waked by thy touch , I see the sister band , On tiptoe ...
Page 3
... sweet garden grow Wreaths for each toil , a charm for every woe ; Won by their sweets , in Nature's languid hour , The way - worn pilgrim seeks thy summer bower ; There , as the wild bee murmurs on the wing , What peaceful dreams thy ...
... sweet garden grow Wreaths for each toil , a charm for every woe ; Won by their sweets , in Nature's languid hour , The way - worn pilgrim seeks thy summer bower ; There , as the wild bee murmurs on the wing , What peaceful dreams thy ...
Page 10
... sweets distil , Nor bloomy vines wave purple on the hill ; Tell , that when silent years have pass'd away , That when his eye grows dim , his tresses grey , These busy hands a lovelier cot shall build , And deck with fairer flowers his ...
... sweets distil , Nor bloomy vines wave purple on the hill ; Tell , that when silent years have pass'd away , That when his eye grows dim , his tresses grey , These busy hands a lovelier cot shall build , And deck with fairer flowers his ...
Page 11
... sweet mourner ! at my stone appear , And soothe my parted spirit lingering near ? Oh , wilt thou come at evening hour to shed The tears of Memory o'er my narrow bed ; With aching temples on thy hand reclined , Muse on the last farewell ...
... sweet mourner ! at my stone appear , And soothe my parted spirit lingering near ? Oh , wilt thou come at evening hour to shed The tears of Memory o'er my narrow bed ; With aching temples on thy hand reclined , Muse on the last farewell ...
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Common terms and phrases
adieu amidst ANTISTROPHE arms battle beauty Beauty's beneath bleeding blood bosom bower brave breast breath bright Britons brow burst burst of joy charms child clime cried Culdee dark dead dear death deep doom'd dream dust earth England Erin go bragh ev'n fair fame fate fire flower Freedom's Gertrude grief hallow'd hand hath heard heart Heaven HOPE hour hush'd Hyænas Indian infanticide Innisfail Irish isles kindred land life's light living Lochiel lonely look'd Love's Loxian lyre mind morn mountain Muse Nature's ne'er night o'er pale peace Poland pride proud psaltery rapture rocks sacred scene scorn Scotland second sight seem'd shade shore sigh sight sire smile song soul spirit stamp'd star storm sweet sword tears thee THEODRIC thine thou thought tomb trumpet Twas Vex'd wampum waves weep wild winds wing woods youth
Popular passages
Page 94 - 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 106 - I'll forgive your Highland chief. My daughter ! Oh ! my daughter...
Page 335 - 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 harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear.
Page 94 - 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 93 - Ye Mariners of England That guard our native seas, Whose flag has braved a thousand years The battle and the breeze! Your glorious standard launch again To match another foe, And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do' blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Page 90 - Go, preach to the coward, thou death-telling seer! Or, if gory Culloden so dreadful appear, Draw, dotard, around thy old wavering sight, This mantle, to cover the phantoms of fright. Wizard Ha ! laugh'st thou, Lochiel, my vision to scorn ? Proud bird of the mountain, thy plume shall be torn ! Say, rush'd the bold eagle exultingly forth, From his home, in the dark-rolling clouds of the north...
Page 104 - I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, And this Lord Ullin's daughter. And fast before her father's men, Three days we've fled together; For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather. His horsemen hard behind us ride; Should they our steps discover, Then who will cheer my bonny bride, When they have slain her lover?
Page 335 - 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 102 - But the day-star attracted his eye's sad devotion, For it rose o'er his own native isle of the ocean, Where once, in the fire of his youthful emotion, He sang the bold anthem of Erin go bragh. Sad is my fate...
Page 112 - By the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain, At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw; And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.