The Pleasures of Hope

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S. Low, Son & Company, 1856 - 58 pagine
 

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Pagina 20 - He said, and on the rampart-heights arrayed His trusty warriors, few but undismayed; Firm-paced and slow, a horrid front they form. Still as the breeze, but dreadful as the storm...
Pagina 28 - Rich in the gems of India's gaudy zone, And plunder piled from kingdoms not their own, Degenerate trade ! thy minions could despise The heart-born anguish of a thousand cries ; -Could lock, with impious hands, their teeming store, While...
Pagina 43 - Unfading HOPE ! when life's last embers burn, When soul to soul, and dust to dust return ! Heaven to thy charge resigns the awful hour ! Oh ! then, thy kingdom comes ! Immortal Power ! What though each spark of earth-born rapture...
Pagina 21 - Oh ! bloodiest picture in the book of Time Sarmatia fell unwept, without a crime ; Found not a generous friend, a pitying foe, Strength in her arms, nor mercy in her woe...
Pagina 1 - AT summer eve, when 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 ? — 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue.
Pagina 39 - And toil'd — and shriek' d — and perish'd on the wave ! Yes, at the dead of night, by Lonna's steep, The seaman's cry was heard along the deep...
Pagina 19 - my bleeding country save ! ' Is there no hand on high to shield the brave ? ' Yet, though destruction sweep those 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...
Pagina 53 - Eternal HOPE ! when yonder spheres sublime Peal'd their first notes to sound the march of Time, Thy joyous youth began — but not to fade. — When all the sister planets have...
Pagina 12 - And say, when summon'd from the world and thee, I lay my head beneath the willow tree, Wilt thou, sweet mourner ! at my stone appear, And soothe my parted spirit lingering near ? Oh, wilt thou come, at evening hour, to shed The tears of memory o'er my narrow bed ; With aching temples on thy hand reclined, Muse on the last farewell I leave behind, Breathe a deep sigh to winds that murmur low, And think on all my love and all my woe?
Pagina 1 - More pleasing seems than all the past hath been ! And every form, that fancy can repair From dark oblivion, glows divinely there. What potent spirit guides the raptured eye To pierce the shades of dim futurity...

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