Gertrude of Wyoming: And Other Poems

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Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, 1810 - Всего страниц: 252

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Стр. 164 - I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.' The boat has left a stormy land, A stormy sea before her, When, oh ! too strong for human hand, The tempest gathered o'er her.
Стр. 155 - 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; By each gun the lighted brand In a bold determined hand, And the Prince of all the land Led them on.
Стр. 157 - 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. 161 - I'm the chief of Ulva's Isle, And this Lord Ullin's daughter. "And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together, For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather. "His horsemen hard behind us ride; Should they our steps discover...
Стр. 149 - 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. The meteor flag of England Shall yet terrific burn; Till danger's troubled night depart And the star of peace return.
Стр. 137 - 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...
Стр. 147 - 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 tempests blow ; While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow...
Стр. 175 - By the wolf-scaring fagot that guarded the slain, At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw. And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again. Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array...
Стр. 177 - ... bleating aloft, And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung. Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore, From my home and my weeping friends never to part ; My little ones kissed me a thousand times o'er, And my wife sobbed aloud in her fulness of heart. Stay, stay with us, — rest, thou art weary and worn...
Стр. 140 - ... 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 ! 'Tis finished.

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