The poetical works of Thomas Campbell

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Evert Duyckinck, 1821 - Всего страниц: 224

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Стр. 149 - I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter ! — oh my daughter...
Стр. 155 - By the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain, At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw, And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.
Стр. 17 - Heaven ! he cried, my bleeding country save : Is there no hand on high to shield the brave ? Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains, Rise, fellow-men ! our country yet remains ! By that dread name, we wave the sword on high, And swear for her to live ! — with her to die...
Стр. 115 - Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, And coming events cast their shadows before.
Стр. 148 - I'll row you o'er the ferry." By this the storm grew loud apace; The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men — Their trampling sounded nearer. "Oh! haste thee, haste!" the lady cries, "Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.
Стр. 140 - Our song and feast shall flow To the fame of your name, When the storm has ceased to blow!
Стр. 145 - By the festal cities' blaze, While the wine-cup shines in light: And yet amidst that joy and uproar, Let us think of them that sleep, Full many a fathom deep, By thy wild and stormy steep, Elsinore!
Стр. 146 - Brave hearts ! to Britain's pride Once so faithful and so true, On the deck of fame that died, With the gallant good Riou : Soft sigh the winds of heaven o'er their grave ; While the billow mournful rolls, And the mermaid's song condoles, Singing glory to the souls Of the brave.
Стр. 148 - ... shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men, Their trampling sounded nearer. " O haste thee, haste! " the lady cries, ' ' Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.
Стр. 219 - ... else, except the vision, as long as it continues ; and then they appear pensive or jovial, according to the object which was represented to them.

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