The King's Own

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G. Routledge, 1866 - 427 Seiten
 

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Seite 111 - By the festal cities' blaze, Whilst the wine-cup shines in light; And yet amidst that joy and uproar Let us think of them that sleep, Full many a fathom deep, By thy wild and stormy steep, Elsinore. Brave hearts ! to Britain's pride Once so faithful and so true, On the deck of fame that died, With the gallant good Riou : Soft sigh the winds of heaven o'er their grave ; While the billow mournful rolls, And the mermaid's song condoles, Singing glory to the souls Of the brave.
Seite 377 - Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks ! rage ! blow ! You cataracts and hurricanoes, spout Till you have drench'd our steeples, drown'd the cocks ! You sulphurous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers of oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head ! And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o...
Seite 315 - I was with Hercules and Cadmus once, When in a wood of Crete they bay'd the bear With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear Such gallant chiding; for, besides the groves, The skies, the fountains, every region near Seem'd all one mutual cry: I never heard So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
Seite 185 - A mind well skill'd to find or forge a fault ; A turn for punning, call it Attic salt ; To Jeffrey go, be silent and discreet, His pay is just ten sterling pounds per sheet. Fear not to lie, 'twill seem a lucky hit ; Shrink not from blasphemy, 'twill pass for wit ; Care not for feeling — pass your proper jest, And stand a critic, hated yet caress'd.
Seite 378 - Full fathom five thy father lies, Of his bones are coral made : Those are pearls that were his eyes, Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea change, Into something rich and strange.
Seite 143 - business in the great waters, — These men see the works of the Lord, And his wonders in the deep.
Seite 185 - A mind well skill'd to find or forge a fault; A turn for punning, call it Attic salt; To Jeffrey go, be silent and discreet, His pay is just ten sterling pounds per sheet : Fear not to lie, 'twill seem a sharper hit; Shrink not from blasphemy, 'twill pass for wit; Care not for feeling — pass your proper jest, And stand a critic, hated yet caress'd.
Seite 321 - ... hearken to the voice of the charmer, charm he never so wisely...
Seite 7 - It has often been my pride, with you, to look into the Texel, and see a foe which dreaded coming out to meet us : my pride is now humbled indeed ! My feelings are not easily to be expressed ! Our cup has overflowed, and made us wanton.
Seite 96 - And that which should accompany old age, As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.

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