As once I wept if I could weep, To gaze, how fondly! on thy face, Uphold thy drooping head; Yet how much less it were to gain, And more thy buried love endears LORD BYRON. 203. One word is too often profaned For me to profane it, One feeling too falsely disdain'd For thee to disdain it. One hope is too like despair For prudence to smother, And Pity from thee more dear Than that from another. I can give not what men call love; The worship the heart lifts above And the Heavens reject not: The desire of the moth for the star, P. B. SHELLEY. 204. GATHERING SONG OF DONALD THE BLACK. Pibroch of Donuil Dhu Pibroch of Donuil Wake thy wild voice anew, Come away, come away, Hark to the summons! Come from deep glen, and The war-pipe and pennon True heart that wears one, Leave untended the herd, The flock without shelter; The bride at the altar; Come as the winds come, when Come as the waves come, when Chief, vassal, page and groom, Tenant and master. Fast they come, fast they come; Blended with heather. Cast your plaids, draw your blades, Forward each man set! Pibroch of Donuil Dhu Knell for the onset! 205. SIR W. SCOTT. A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast And fills the white and rustling sail And bends the gallant mast, my boys, Away the good ship flies, and leaves O for a soft and gentle wind! But give to me the snoring breeze And white waves heaving high, my lads, There's tempest in yon hornéd moon, While the hollow oak our palace is, Our heritage the sea. A. CUNNINGHAM. 206. 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. The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave For the deck it was their field of fame, Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell Britannia needs no bulwarks, Her march is o'er the mountain waves, With thunders from her native oak As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow; And the stormy winds do blow. The meteor flag of England Till danger's troubled night depart When the storm has ceased to blow; When the fiery fight is heard no more, T. CAMPBELL. 207. BATTLE OF THE BALTIC. Of Nelson and the North Sing the glorious day's renown, When to battle fierce came forth All the might of Denmark's crown, And her arms along the deep proudly shone ; By each gun the lighted brand In a bold determined hand, And the Prince of all the land Led them on. Like leviathans afloat Lay their bulwarks on the brine; While the sign of battle flew On the lofty British line : |