The pleasures of hope; with other poems. [Another]

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Стр. 37 - Firm-paced and slow, a horrid front they form, Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm; Low murmuring sounds along their banners fly, Revenge, or death...
Стр. 51 - Could mock the groans of fellow-men, and bear The curse of kingdoms peopled with despair ! Could stamp disgrace on man's polluted name, And barter, with their gold, eternal shame ! But hark ! as bow'd to earth the Bramin kneels, From heavenly climes propitious thunder peals ! Of India's fate her guardian spirits tell, Prophetic murmurs breathing on the shell, And solemn sounds, that awe the listening mind, Roll on the azure paths of every wind.
Стр. 37 - 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. 78 - The strife is o'er — the pangs of nature close, And life's last rapture triumphs o'er her woes.
Стр. 25 - Bright as the pillar rose at Heaven's command, When Israel march'd along the desert land, Blazed through the night on lonely wilds afar, And told the path — a never-setting star : So heavenly genius, in thy course divine, Hope is thy star, her light is ever thine.
Стр. 136 - How smit was poor Adelaide's heart at the sight ! How bitter she wept o'er the victim of war ! " Hast thou come, my fond Love, this last sorrowful night, To cheer the lone heart of your wounded Hussar?" " Thou shall live," she replied, " Heaven's mercy relieving Each anguishing wound, shall forbid me to mourn...
Стр. 11 - AT summer eve, when Heaven's ethereal bow Spans with bright arch the glittering hills below, Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye, Whose sunbright summit mingles with the sky ? Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear More sweet than all the landscape smiling near ?'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue.
Стр. 91 - Inspiring thought of rapture yet to be, The tears of Love were hopeless, but for thee ! If in that frame no deathless spirit dwell, If that faint murmur be the last farewell, If Fate unite the faithful but to part, Why is their memory sacred to the heart ? Why does the brother of my childhood seem Restored...
Стр. 27 - Sleep, image of thy father, sleep, my boy ; No lingering hour of sorrow shall be thine ; No sigh that rends thy father's heart and mine ; Bright as his manly sire the son shall be In form and soul ; but, ah ! more blest than he ! Thy fame, thy worth, thy filial love at last, Shall soothe his aching heart for all the past — With many a smile my solitude repay, And chase the world's ungenerous scorn away.
Стр. 36 - Heaven ! he cried, my bleeding country save ! — Is there no hand on high to shield the brave ? Yet, though destruction sweep those lovely plains, Rise, fellow-men ! our country...

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