The Poetical Works of Thomas Campbell, Том 2

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Edward Moxon, 1837 - Всего страниц: 306
 

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Стр. 87 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Стр. 86 - 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. 94 - 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. " 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. 105 - ALL worldly shapes shall melt in gloom, The Sun himself must die, Before this mortal shall assume Its Immortality ! I saw a vision in my sleep, That gave my spirit strength to sweep Adown the gulf of Time ; I saw the last of human mould, That shall Creation's death behold, As Adam saw her prime. The Sun's eye had a sickly glare, The Earth with age was wan, The skeletons of nations were Around that lonely man...
Стр. 14 - 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. 79 - Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, And coming events cast their shadows before. I tell thee, Culloden's dread echoes shall ring With the bloodhounds that bark for thy fugitive king. Lo ! anointed by Heaven with the vials of wrath, Behold, where he flies on his desolate path ! Now in darkness and billows, he sweeps from my sight; Rise, rise ! ye wild tempests, and cover his flight!
Стр. 78 - Go, preach to the coward, thou death-telling seer ! Or, if gory Culloden so dreadful appear, Draw, dotard, around thy old wavering sight! This mantle", to cover the phantoms of fright. Wizard. — Ha! laugh'st thou, Lochiel, my vision to scorn ? Proud bird of the mountain, thy plume shall be torn ! Say, rushed the bold eagle exultingly forth, From his home, in the dark rolling clouds of the north ? Lo!
Стр. 86 - Our song and feast shall flow To the fame of your name, When the storm has ceased to blow, — When the fiery fight is heard no more, And the storm has ceased to blow.
Стр. 83 - 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.
Стр. 79 - Tis the fire-shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven From his eyrie, that beacons the darkness of heaven. Oh, crested Lochiel, the peerless in might, Whose banners arise on the battlements' height, Heaven's fire is around thee, to blast and to burn ! Return to thy dwelling, all lonely return ! For the blackness of ashes shall mark where it stood, And a wild mother scream o'er her famishing brood.

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