The Poetical Works of Rogers, Campbell, J. Montgomery, Lamb, and Kirke White ...

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Grigg & Elliot, 1843 - English poetry - 496 pages

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Page 150 - Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulph'rous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave ! Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry ! Few, few shall part where many meet ! The snow shall be their winding-sheet, And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.
Page 149 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
Page 485 - Deep horror then my vitals froze, death-struck, -I ceased the tide to stem; when suddenly a star arose — it was the Star of Bethlehem.
Page 485 - Go, lovely Rose ! Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be. Tell her that's young, And shuns to have her graces spied, That had'st thou sprung In deserts where no men abide, Thou must have uncommended died.
Page 351 - FRIEND after friend departs ; Who hath not lost a friend ? There is no union here of hearts, That finds not here an end : Were this frail world our only rest, Living or dying none were blest.
Page 149 - 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 116 - 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 ! Dropped from her nerveless grasp the shattered spear— Closed her bright eye, and curbed her high career ! — Hope, for a season, bade the world farewell, And Freedom shrieked — as KOSCIUSKO fell!
Page 351 - Thus star by star declines, Till all are passed away, As morning high and higher shines, To pure and perfect day ; Nor sink those stars in empty night ; They hide themselves in heaven's own light.
Page 26 - ... an inward prompting, which now grew daily upon me, that by labour and intent study, (which I take to be my portion in this life,) joined with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps leave something so written, to after-times, as they should not willingly let it die.
Page 63 - When on an idle day, a day of search 'Mid the old lumber in the gallery, That mouldering chest was noticed ; and 'twas said By one as young, as thoughtless as GINEVRA, " Why not remove it from its lurking-place...

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