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ACROSTIC ancient ANCIENT EGYPT angel anti-poetical balm band bard beaming beauty blest blooming bold breath bright Caledonia Chorus clouds dark David Butler dear death deep doth e'en earth EUGENE D fame fancy's FATE OF GRECIAN fear feeling fire friends gathering genius gentle gloom glory glow God's gone grave GRECIAN LIBERTY Greece happy hath heard heart heaven heavenly hill Hobart holy hope hour JAMES LAWRENCE JAMES MONTGOMERY land Lautaro life's living lonely lyre Mary MEDEA melancholy memory mighty mind mother mourn Muse native ne'er night o'er OSSIAN peace POESY OF RELIGION poetry poets pure Racine round sacred scene SCOTTISH CHARACTER shout sing smile sorrow soul spirit STABAT MATER stood storm strain sung sweet tear thee thine Thou hast thunder tomb TRIUMPH OF VIRTUE Virgil wander weep wild wondrous young youth
Página 45 - Caledonia ! stern and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child ! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood, Land of my sires ! what mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band That knits me to thy rugged strand ! Still, as I view each well-known scene, Think what is now, and what hath been, Seems as, to me, of all bereft, Sole friends thy woods and streams are left ; And thus I love them better still, Even in extremity of ill.
Página 45 - From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs, That makes her loved at home, revered abroad : Princes and lords are but the breath of kings; " An honest man's the noblest work of God ;" And, certes,* in fair virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind. What is a lordling's pomp ? A cumbrous load, Disguising oft the wretch of human kind! Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refined ! O Scotia, my dear, my native soil!
Página 45 - And, oh ! may Heaven their simple lives prevent From luxury's contagion, weak and vile ! Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent, A virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand a wall of fire around their much-loved Isle.
Página 131 - The mountains look on Marathon, And Marathon looks on the sea ; And musing there an hour alone, I dreamed that Greece might still be free ; For standing on the Persian's grave, I could not deem myself a slave.
Página 118 - And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died, The fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side: In the cold moist earth we laid her, when the...
Página 45 - Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand...
Página 16 - Non possidentem multa vocaveris Recte beatum : rectius occupat Nomen beati qui deorum Muneribus sapienter uti Duramque callet pauperiem pati, Pejusque leto flagitium timet, Non ille pro caris amicis Aut patria timidus perire.
Página 71 - FLY, envious Time, till thou run out thy race ; Call on the lazy leaden-stepping hours, Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace ; And glut thyself with what thy womb devours, Which is no more than what is false and vain, And merely mortal dross ; So little is our loss, So little is thy gain.
Página 95 - Amour sacré de la patrie, Conduis, soutiens nos bras vengeurs ! Liberté ! Liberté chérie, Combats avec tes défenseurs ! Sous nos drapeaux, que la victoire Accoure à tes mâles accents ! Que tes ennemis expirants Voient ton triomphe et notre gloire ! Aux armes, etc.