The pleasures of hope; with other poems

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Стр. 30 - He said, and on the rampart-heights arrayed His trusty warriors, few but undismayed; Firm-paced and slow, a horrid front they form. Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm...
Стр. 31 - 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...
Стр. 55 - By wealthless lot or pitiless command ; Or doom'd to gaze on beauties that adorn The smile of Triumph or the frown of Scorn ; While Memory watches o'er the sad review Of joys that faded like the morning dew ; Peace may depart, and life and nature seem A barren path, a wildness, and a dream...
Стр. 24 - And, mark the wretch, whose wanderings never knew The world's regard, that soothes, though half untrue, Whose erring heart the lash of sorrow bore, But found not pity when it err'd no more. Yon friendless man, at whose dejected eye Th...
Стр. 53 - And say, without our hopes, without our fears, Without the home that plighted love endears, Without the smile from partial beauty won, Oh ! what were man ? — a world without a sun.
Стр. 4 - Tis Nature pictured too severely true. With thee, 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 watching, start at thy command, And fly where'er thy mandate bids them steer, To Pleasure's path, or Glory's bright career.
Стр. 21 - With aching temples on thy hand reclined, Muse on the last farewell I leave behind, Breathe a deep sigh to winds that murmur low, And think on all my love, and all my woe...
Стр. 33 - Departed spirits of the mighty dead! Ye that at Marathon and Leuctra bled! Friends of the world! restore your swords to man, Fight in his sacred cause, and lead the van! Yet for Sarmatia's tears of blood atone, And make her arm puissant as your own! Oh! once again to Freedom's cause return The patriot TELL — the BRUCE OF BANNOCKBURN!
Стр. 55 - The world was sad ! — the garden was a wild ! And man, the hermit, sigh'd — till woman smil'd...
Стр. 27 - Come, bright improvement! on the car of time, And rule the spacious world from clime to clime ; Thy handmaid arts shall every wild explore, Trace every wave, and culture every shore.

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