Poems

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Mundell, Doig, & Stevenson, 1807 - 227 Seiten
 

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Seite 24 - Ajut went down to the beach ; where, finding a fishing-boat, she entered it without hesitation, and telling those who wondered at her rashness, that she was going in search of Anningait, rowed away with great swiftness, and was seen no more.
Seite 18 - But sacred to me is the roar of the wave, That mingles its tide with the blood of the brave ; Where the blasts of the trumpets for battle combine, And the heart was laid low that gave rapture to mine. Ye scenes of remembrance that sorrow beguil'd, Your uplands I leave for the desolate wild ; For nature is nought to the eye of despair But the image -of hopes that have vanish'd in air : Again ye fair blossoms of flower and of tree, Ye shall bloom to the morn, tho...
Seite 19 - The colours of heaven on the dwellings of woe! Too faithful recorders of times that are past, The Eden of Love that was ever to last ! Once more may soft accents your wild echoes fill, And the young and the happy be worshippers still. To me ye are lost! — but your summits of green Shall charm thro the distance of many a scene, In woe, and in wandering, and deserts, return Like the soul of the dead to the perishing urn ! Ye hills of my country ! farewell evermore As I cleave the dark waves of your...
Seite 219 - Thou hear'st some sounding tale of war's alarms ; When at the bugle's call, with fire and steel, The sturdy clans pour'd forth their brawny swarms, And hostile brothers met, to prove each other's arms.
Seite 225 - OH for a lodge in some vast wilderness, Some boundless contiguity of shade, Where rumour of oppression and deceit, Of unsuccessful or successful war, Might never reach me more.
Seite 18 - The seats of my childhood, for ever adieu ! Yet not for a brighter your skies I resign, When my wandering footsteps revisit the Rhine : But sacred to me is the roar of the wave, That mingles its tide with the blood of the brave ; Where the blasts of the trumpets for battle combine, And the heart was laid low that gave rapture to mine.
Seite 223 - ... fields and meadows, and beating against the bushes; the whole valley was a stormy sea, tossed by furious winds. The moon then appeared again, and rested on a dark cloud; the splendor of her light increased the disorder of nature. The echoes redoubled and repeated the roarings of the wind and the waters. I drew near to the precipice; I wished and shuddered; I stretched out my arms, and leaned over, I sighed, and lost myself in the happy thought of burying all my sufferings, all my torments, in...

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