The poetical works of Thomas Campbell, ed. by W.M. Rossetti

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Page 227 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave ! — For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
Page 148 - I appeal to any white man to say, if ever he entered Logan's cabin hungry, and he gave him not meat; if ever he came cold and naked, and he clothed him not. During the course of the last long and bloody war Logan remained idle in his cabin, an advocate for peace. Such was my love for the whites, that my countrymen pointed as they passed, and said, 'Logan is the friend of white men.
Page 231 - Linden, when the sun was low, all bloodless lay th' untrodden snow; and dark as winter was the flow of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, when the drum beat at dead of night commanding fires of death to light the darkness of her scenery. By torch and trumpet fast arrayed each horseman drew his battle-blade, and furious every charger neigh'd to join the dreadful revelry.
Page 231 - On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow ; And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly. But Linden saw another sight, When the drum beat at dead of night, Commanding fires of death to light The darkness of her scenery.
Page 238 - I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, And this Lord Ullin's daughter. — " And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together, For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather. " His horsemen hard behind us ride ; Should they our steps discover, Then who will cheer my bonny bride When they have slain her lover?
Page 240 - But still as wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armed men — Their trampling sounded nearer. "Oh! haste thee, haste!" the lady cries, "Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.
Page 148 - There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature. This called on me for revenge. I have sought it : I have killed many : I have fully glutted my vengeance. For my country I rejoice at the beams of peace. But do not harbor a thought that mine is the joy of fear.
Page 221 - In a bold determin'd hand, And the Prince of all the land Led them on. Like leviathans afloat Lay their bulwarks on the brine, While the sign of battle flew On the lofty British line: It was ten of April morn by the chime: As they drifted on their...
Page 85 - As monumental bronze unchanged his look : A soul that pity touch'd, but never shook : Train'd, from his tree-rock'd cradle to his bier, The fierce extremes of good and ill to brook Impassive — fearing but the shame of fear — A stoic of the woods — a man without a tear.
Page 210 - Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore, And coming events cast their shadows before. I tell thee, Culloden's dread echoes shall ring With the bloodhounds that bark for thy fugitive king. Lo ! anointed by Heaven with the vials of wrath, Behold where he flies on his desolate path ! Now in darkness and billows he sweeps from my sight : Rise ! rise ! ye wild tempests, and cover his flight ! — 'Tis finished.

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