The Sea-Kings of the Mediterranean

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Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 1872 - Seafaring life - 281 pages
 

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Page 15 - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water : the poop was beaten gold ; Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that The winds were love-sick with them...
Page 40 - Let them be called Janizaries ( Yengi Chert, or new soldiers) ; may their countenance be ever bright ! their hand victorious ! their sword keen ! may their spear always hang over the heads of their enemies ; and wheresoever they go, may they return with a white face \ " Such was the origin of these haughty troops, the terror of the nations, and sometimes of the sultans themselves.
Page 281 - Most of these Works may be had in Ornamental Bindings, with Gilt Edges, at a small extra charge. • Price.
Page 23 - Though bill-men ply the ghastly blow, Unbroken was the ring; The stubborn spear-men still made good Their dark impenetrable wood, Each stepping where his comrade stood, The instant that he fell.
Page 127 - So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky...
Page 230 - We ne'er see our foes but we wish them to stay, They never see us but they wish us away : If they run, why, we follow, or run them ashore ; For if they won't fight us, we cannot do more.
Page 106 - 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...
Page 129 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness ; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Page 26 - There, mildly dimpling, Ocean's cheek Reflects the tints of many a peak Caught by the laughing tides that lave These Edens of the eastern wave ; And if at times a transient breeze Break the blue crystal of the seas, Or sweep one blossom from the trees, How welcome is each gentle air That wakes and wafts the odours there ! For there— the Rose o'er crag or vale, Sultana of the Nightingale...

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