The poetical remains of the late Dr. John Leyden: with memoirs of his life

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Longman, 1819 - Всего страниц: 415

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Стр. 103 - The moonbeams crisp the curling surge, That streaks with foam the ocean green : While forward still the rowers urge Their course, a female form was seen.
Стр. 101 - Where the wave is tinged with red, And the russet sea-leaves grow, Mariners, with prudent dread, Shun the shelving reefs below. As you pass through Jura's sound, Bend your course by Scarba's shore...
Стр. 305 - His spleen, the chirring grasshopper, The merry cricket, puling fly, The piping gnat for minstrelsy. And now we must imagine first, The elves present to quench his thirst A pure...
Стр. xcii - Quench'd is his lamp of varied lore, That loved the light of song to pour ; A distant and a deadly shore Has LEYDEN'S cold remains ! XII.
Стр. 99 - ON Jura's heath how sweetly swell The murmurs of the mountain bee ! How softly mourns the writhed shell Of Jura's shore, its parent sea ! But softer, floating o'er the deep, The Mermaid's sweet sea-soothing lay, That charm'd the dancing waves to sleep Before the bark of Colonsay.
Стр. 96 - ... dolphin's tail. The female monster is called mar-gyga (sea-giantess), and is averred certainly to drag a fish's train. She appears generally in the act of devouring fish which she has caught. According to the apparent voracity of her appetite, the sailors pretend to guess what chance they had of saving their lives in the tempests which always followed her appearance (" Speculum Regale,
Стр. 114 - That slowly wakes while all the fields are still ! A soothing calm on every breeze is borne ; A graver murmur gurgles from the rill ; And echo answers softer from the hill ; And sweeter sings the linnet from the thorn : The skylark warbles in a tone less shrill. Hail, light serene ! hail, sacred Sabbath morn...
Стр. 88 - In Keeldar's plume the holly green, And rowan leaves, nod on, And vain Lord Soulis's sword was seen, Though the hilt was adderstone. Then up the Wee Brown Man he rose, By Soulis of Liddesdale ; " In vain," he said, " a thousand blows Assail the charmed mail.
Стр. 164 - Far from my sacred natal clime, I haste to an untimely grave ; The daring thoughts that soared sublime Are sunk in ocean's southern wave. Slave of the mine, thy yellow light Gleams baleful as the tomb-fire drear.
Стр. 111 - Retained its vivid crimson hue ; ' And each despairing accent fled, To find his gentle love so true. When seven long lonely months were gone, The mermaid to his cavern came ; No more mis-shapen from the zone, But like a maid of mortal frame.

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