Gertrude of Wyoming, and Other PoemsLongman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown; Vernor, Hood, and Sharpe; and J. Murray., 1810 - 252 psl. |
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14 psl.
... flow'r beneath his eye , Dear as she was , from cherub infancy , From hours when she would round his garden play ; To time when as the rip'ning years went by , Her lovely mind could culture well repay , And more engaging grew , from ...
... flow'r beneath his eye , Dear as she was , from cherub infancy , From hours when she would round his garden play ; To time when as the rip'ning years went by , Her lovely mind could culture well repay , And more engaging grew , from ...
44 psl.
... The utterance that seal'd thy sacred bond , ' Twas list'ning to these accents of delight , She hid upon his breast those eyes , beyond Expression's pow'r to paint , all languishingly fond . XXIV . ' Flow'r of my life , so lovely 44.
... The utterance that seal'd thy sacred bond , ' Twas list'ning to these accents of delight , She hid upon his breast those eyes , beyond Expression's pow'r to paint , all languishingly fond . XXIV . ' Flow'r of my life , so lovely 44.
45 psl.
Thomas Campbell. XXIV . ' Flow'r of my life , so lovely , and so lone ! · Whom I would rather in this desart meet , Scorning , and scorn'd by fortune's pow'r , than own Her pomp and splendors lavish'd at my feet ! Turn not from me ...
Thomas Campbell. XXIV . ' Flow'r of my life , so lovely , and so lone ! · Whom I would rather in this desart meet , Scorning , and scorn'd by fortune's pow'r , than own Her pomp and splendors lavish'd at my feet ! Turn not from me ...
72 psl.
... And we shall share , my Christian boy ! ' The foeman's blood , the avenger's joy ! XXXVI . ' But thee , my flow'r , whose breath was giv'n < By milder genii o'er the deep , The spirits of the white man's heav'n Forbid not 72.
... And we shall share , my Christian boy ! ' The foeman's blood , the avenger's joy ! XXXVI . ' But thee , my flow'r , whose breath was giv'n < By milder genii o'er the deep , The spirits of the white man's heav'n Forbid not 72.
201 psl.
... flow'r . Gone from her hand and bosom , gone , The royal broche , the jewell'd ring , That o'er her dazzling whiteness shone Like dews on lilies of the spring . Yet why , though fall'n her brother's kerne , 7 Beneath De Bourgo's battle ...
... flow'r . Gone from her hand and bosom , gone , The royal broche , the jewell'd ring , That o'er her dazzling whiteness shone Like dews on lilies of the spring . Yet why , though fall'n her brother's kerne , 7 Beneath De Bourgo's battle ...
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Albert's amidst ARGYLESHIRE arms Athunree bark battle behold beneath bird blood bosom Bourgo bow'r Brandt breath brothers burst calumet chief chieftain Christian Connocht Moran's cried Culloden Curiatii dark dead dear death deer desolate dream eagle enemies England Erin Erin go bragh Erin's ev'n eyes father's fire flow'r GERTRUDE OF WYOMING Gertrude's Glenara grief hand heard heart heav'n Highland hills Indian Innisfail Ireland Irish isles kindred knew lady land light Lochiel lonely look'd loud lov'd LOVE LIES BLEEDING Manitou morn mountain never night O'Connor's child o'er Oneyda pale peace plume pow'r Prince Psalter roar rock round rush'd savannas Scotland second sight seem'd seers shore Sir John Johnson sire song soul spirit Stanza 23 star storm stormy tempests blow stranger sweet sword tears thee thou Travels tree tribe Twas Verse vision Waldegrave's wampum warrior ween weep wild woods wrath
Populiarios ištraukos
164 psl. - 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.
155 psl. - 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.
157 psl. - 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.
161 psl. - 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...
149 psl. - 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.
137 psl. - 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...
147 psl. - 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...
175 psl. - 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...
177 psl. - ... 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...
140 psl. - ... 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.