In honorem, songs of the brave, poems and odes by Campbell [and others].

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Стр. 26 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated; who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes.
Стр. 28 - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms, — the day Battle's magnificently stern array...
Стр. 22 - Her home is on the deep. With thunders from her native oak, She quells the floods below — As they roar on the shore, When the stormy winds do blow; When the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow.
Стр. 33 - Then they rode back, but not, Not the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd; Stormed at with shot and shell, While horse and hero fell They that had fought so well Came thro...
Стр. 25 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street ; On with the dance ! let joy be unconfined ; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet...
Стр. 27 - Cameron's gathering" rose, The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard,— and heard, too, have her Saxon foes; How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their...
Стр. 20 - 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.
Стр. 16 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning.
Стр. 10 - 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...
Стр. 11 - 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 shattered sail; Or in conflagration pale Light the gloom.

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