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beauty bleeding blest bosom breath bright cease charm child clime close clouds cold dark dead dear death deed deep delight dread dream dust earth fair fall fancy fate feeling fields fire flow fond glows green hand happiness hath hear heart Heav'n Hope hour isles life's light live lonely look mark Memory midnight mind morn mountain muse native Nature Nature's never night NOTE o'er once Peace pensive play PLEASURES poor rapture rocks round sacred scenes shade shore sigh silent sleep smile soft song soothe sorrow soul spirit spring star storm sublime summer sweet tear tell thee thou thought trace tree trembling triumph true Truth Twas vale Virtue wake warm watch wave weep wild winds wing youth
Seite 18 - my bleeding country save! Is there no hand on high to shield the brave ? Yet, though destruction sweep these lovely plains, Rise, fellow-men! our country yet remains ! By that dread name we wave the sword on high, And swear for her to live ! — with her to die!
Seite 15 - twas there she wept in vain, Till Memory fled her agonizing brain ; — But Mercy gave, to charm the sense of woe, Ideal peace, that truth could ne'er bestow ; Warm on her heart the joys of Fancy beam. And aimless HOPE delights her darkest dream. Oft when yon moon has climb'd the midnight sky, And the lone sea-bird wakes its wildest, cry, Piled on the steep, her blazing fagots burn To hail the bark that never can return ; And still she waits, but scarce forbears to weep That constant love can linger...
Seite 28 - But Heaven shall burst her starry gates again ! He comes! dread Brama shakes the sunless sky With murmuring wrath, and thunders from on high, Heaven's fiery horse, beneath his warrior form. Paws the light clouds, and gallops on the storm ! Wide waves his flickering sword ; his bright arms glow Like summer suns, and light the world below! Earth, and her trembling isles in Ocean's bed, Are shook; and Nature rocks beneath his tread!
Seite 18 - Firm-paced and slow, a horrid front they form, Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm; Low murmuring sounds along their banners fly, Revenge, or death...
Seite 102 - By the wolf-scaring faggot that guarded the slain, At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw ; And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again.
Seite 82 - ON the green banks of Shannon, when Sheelah was nigh, No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I'; No harp like my own could so cheerily play, And wherever I went was my poor dog Tray. When at last I was forced from my Sheelah to part, She said (while the sorrow was big at her heart), Oh ! remember your Sheelah when fur far away ; And be kind, my dear Pat, to our poor dog Tray.
Seite 3 - Heaven's ethereal bow Spans with bright arch the glittering hills below, Why to yon mountain turns the musing eye, Whose sunbright summit mingles with the sky ? Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear More sweet than all the landscape smiling near i — 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue.
Seite 14 - Chide not his peace, proud Reason; nor destroy The shadowy forms of uncreated joy, That urge the lingering tide of life, and pour Spontaneous slumber on his midnight hour. Hark!
Seite 3 - Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue. Thus, with delight, we linger to survey The promised joys of life's unmeasured way ; Thus, from afar, each dim-discover'd scene More pleasing seems than all the past hath been; And every form that Fancy can repair From dark oblivion, glows divinely there.