Roderick, the last of the Goths. A tragic poem

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E. Earle, 1815 - 364 Seiten
 

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Seite 207 - No airy and light passion stirs abroad To ruffle or to soothe him ; all are quell'd Beneath a mightier, sterner, stress of mind. Wakeful he sits, and lonely, and unmoved, Beyond the arrows, shouts, and views of men. As oftentimes an eagle, ere the sun Throws o'er the varying earth his early ray, Stands solitary — stands immovable Upon some highest cliff, and rolls his eye, Clear, constant, unobservant, unabased, In the cold light above the dews of morn.
Seite 179 - With rapid repetition, . . In the name Of God ! for Spain and Vengeance ! and forthwith On either side along the whole defile The Asturians shouting in the name of God, Set the whole ruin loose ! huge trunks and stones, And loosened crags, down down they rolled with rush And bound, and thundering force.
Seite 4 - Thou saw'st the dark-blue waters flash before Their ominous way, and whiten round their keels; Their swarthy myriads darkening o'er thy sands. There on the beach the Misbelievers spread Their banners, flaunting to the sun and breeze; Fair shone the sun upon their proud array, White turbans, glittering armour, shields...
Seite 18 - Roderick received the alms ; his wandering eye Fell on the money, and the fallen King, Seeing his own royal impress on the piece, Broke out into a quick convulsive voice, That...
Seite 263 - Tis the old mansion of their earliest friends, The chapel of their first and best devotions ; When violence or perfidy invades, Or when unworthy lords hold wassail there, And wiser heads are drooping round its moats, At last they fix their steady and stiff eye There, there alone— stand while the trumpet blows, And view the hostile flames above its towers Spire, with a bitter and severe delight Abd.
Seite 5 - Death soon and short, death and forgetfulness ! Aloud he cried ; but in his inmost heart There answered him a secret voice, that spake Of righteousness and judgment after death, And God's redeeming love, which fain would save The guilty soul alive. 'Twas agony, And yet 'twas hope ; . . a momentary light, That flash'd through utter darkness on the Cross To point salvation, then left all within Dark as before. Fear, never felt till then, Sudden and irresistible as stroke Of lightning, smote him.
Seite 48 - And stately piles which crowned its margin, rich With olives and with sunny slope of vines, And many a lovely hamlet interspersed, Whose citron bowers were once the abode of peace. Height above height, receding hills were seen Imbued with evening hues ; and, over all, The summits of the dark sierra rose, Lifting their heads amid the silent sky. The traveller who, with a heart at ease, Had seen the goodly vision, would have loved To linger, seeking with insatiate sight To treasure up its image, deep...
Seite 198 - Thus disarray'd as thou beholdest me, Clean through yon miscreant army have I cut My way unhurt ; but being once by Heaven Preserved, I would not perish with the guilt Of having wilfully provoked my death. Give me thy helmet and thy cuirass ! . . nay, . . Thou wert not wont to let...
Seite 107 - The watchman on the battlements partakes The stillness of the solemn hour ; he feels The silence of the earth, the endless sound Of flowing water soothes him, and the stars, Which in that brightest moonlight...
Seite 164 - Beholding with fixed eyes that lovely orb, Till quiet tears confused in dizzy light The broken moonbeams. They too by the toil Of spirit, as by travail of the day Subdued, were silent, yielding to the hour. The silver cloud diffusing slowly past, And now into its airy elements Resolved is gone ; while through the azure depth Alone in heaven the glorious moon pursues Her course appointed, with indifferent beams Shining upon the silent hills around, , And the dark tents of that unholy host, Who, all...

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