What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
BARRY CORNWALL BATTLE OF ROSLIN beam beauty beneath bird Blackwood's Magazine bliss bloom blue blush bosom bower breast breath bright brow calm charm cheek clouds dark dead dear death deep dream dwell earth fade fair Farewell fate feel flame flowers fond gaze gentle GEORGE CROLY gleam gloom glory glow gone grave green grief hast hath heard heart heaven helmet of Navarre hope HORACE SMITH hour kiss life's light lingering lips Literary Gazette London Magazine lonely look LORD BYRON love's lute lyre merry heart morn murmuring ne'er never night o'er pale rose round Sappho scene shade shed shine shore sigh silent sleep slumber smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit star storm stream sweet swell tears thee thine THOMAS CAMPBELL thou art thought tomb Twas voice wandering wave weep wild winds wing young youth
Page 95 - We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed, And smoothed down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head, And we far away on the billow ! Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; But little hell reck if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him...
Page 216 - Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France, Charge for the Golden Lilies — upon them with the lance. A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest ; And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a guiding star, Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre.
Page 102 - I ARISE from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright. I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Hath led me — who knows how?
Page 216 - D'Aumale hath cried for quarter. The Flemish count is slain. Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale; The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven mail. And then we thought on vengeance, and, all along our van, "Remember St. Bartholomew!" was passed from man to man. But out spake gentle Henry, "No Frenchman is my foe: Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go.
Page 89 - Seek out— less often sought than found — A soldier's grave, for thee the best; Then look around, and choose thy ground, And take thy rest.
Page 121 - We have, above ground, seen some strange mutations : The Roman empire has begun and ended, New worlds have risen, we have lost old nations ; And countless kings have into dust been humbled, While not a fragment of thy flesh has crumbled.
Page 71 - TRIUMPHAL arch, that fill'st the sky When storms prepare to part, I ask not proud philosophy To teach me what thou art. Still seem, as to my childhood's sight, A midway station given For happy spirits to alight Betwixt the earth and heaven.
Page 126 - The fountains mingle with the river And the rivers with the Ocean, The winds of Heaven mix for ever With a sweet emotion; Nothing in the world is single; All things by a law divine In one spirit meet and mingle. Why not I with thine?
Page 169 - They sin who tell us Love can die, With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity. In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell, Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell ; Earthly these passions of the Earth, They perish where they have their birth ; But Love is indestructible. Its holy flame for ever burneth, From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth...