British melodies, extracts from the modern poets [signed J.H.R.].1820 |
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Page 5
... open the gates of the grave . As the chief who to combat advances Secure of his conquest before , Thus thou , with those eyes for thy lances , Hast pierc'd through my heart to its core . Ah , tell me , my soul ! must I Lord Byron,
... open the gates of the grave . As the chief who to combat advances Secure of his conquest before , Thus thou , with those eyes for thy lances , Hast pierc'd through my heart to its core . Ah , tell me , my soul ! must I Lord Byron,
Page 19
... fresh turf , and not the feverish bed . While gasp by gasp he faulters forth his soul , Ours with one pang -- one bound - escapes controul . His corse may boast it's urn and narrow cave , And they who loathed his life may gild his grave 19.
... fresh turf , and not the feverish bed . While gasp by gasp he faulters forth his soul , Ours with one pang -- one bound - escapes controul . His corse may boast it's urn and narrow cave , And they who loathed his life may gild his grave 19.
Page 20
British melodies J H R. And they who loathed his life may gild his grave : Ours are the tears , though few , sincerely shed , When Ocean shrouds and sepulchres our dead . For us , even banquets fond regret supply In the red cup that ...
British melodies J H R. And they who loathed his life may gild his grave : Ours are the tears , though few , sincerely shed , When Ocean shrouds and sepulchres our dead . For us , even banquets fond regret supply In the red cup that ...
Page 24
... grave to look . I will not ask where thou liest low , Nor gaze upon the spot ; There flowers or weeds at will may grow , So I behold them not ; It is enough for me to prove That what I 24 And thou art Dead Lord Byron,
... grave to look . I will not ask where thou liest low , Nor gaze upon the spot ; There flowers or weeds at will may grow , So I behold them not ; It is enough for me to prove That what I 24 And thou art Dead Lord Byron,
Page 27
... grave where our hero was buried . We buried him darkly at dead of night , The sods with our bayonets turning , By the struggling moon - beam's misty light , And the lantern dimly burning . No useless coffin enclosed his breast , Nor in ...
... grave where our hero was buried . We buried him darkly at dead of night , The sods with our bayonets turning , By the struggling moon - beam's misty light , And the lantern dimly burning . No useless coffin enclosed his breast , Nor in ...
Common terms and phrases
Ave Maris Stella bards battle battle of Corunna beams beauty blest bosom brave breast breath bright calm charms clouds cold Culloden dark dead dear death deep delight dread dream earth Erin Erin go bragh fair fame fancy farewell feel flowers friends gaze glory glow goblet grave green grief harp hast hath heart heaven hope Horace Twiss hour ladies gay light Lochiel lonely Lord Byron mingle Moore morning mountain mourn murmur Muse ne'er never night Norsemen numbers o'er R. B. SHERIDAN rapture remember roam rose round scene shed shine shore sigh silent SIR PETER PARKER sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound sparkle spirit Star storm stream sweet tear tell tempests thee thine thou art thought thro Twas twilight twine vex'd voice Walter Scott wandering waters wave weep wild wind youth
Popular passages
Page 41 - 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 222 - The picture of the mind revives again : While here I stand, not only with the sense Of present pleasure, but with pleasing thoughts That in this moment there is life and food For future years.
Page 222 - For nature then (The coarser pleasures of my boyish days, And their glad animal movements all gone by) To me was all in all. — I cannot paint What then I was. The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colours and their forms, were then to me An appetite; a feeling and a love, 80 That had no need of a remoter charm, By thought supplied, nor any interest Unborrowed from the eye.
Page 240 - Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth; And constancy lives in realms above; And life is thorny; and youth is vain; And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain.
Page 28 - 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 he'll reck, if they let him sleep on In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
Page 96 - Nelson and the North Sing the glorious day's renown, When to battle fierce came forth All the might of Denmark's crown, And her arms along the deep proudly shone; By each gun the lighted brand In a bold determined hand, And the Prince of all the land Led them on.
Page 99 - Tis a note of enchantment ; what ails her ? She sees A mountain ascending, a vision of trees ; Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside. Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale, Down which she so often has tripped with her pail ; And a single small Cottage, a nest like a dove's, The one only dwelling on earth that she loves.
Page 42 - Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, Where furious Frank and fiery Hun Shout in their sulphurous canopy. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory, or the grave ! Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry. Few, few shall part where many meet ! The snow shall be their winding-sheet ; And every turf beneath their feet Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.
Page 225 - And these my exhortations ! Nor, perchance, If I should be, where I no more can hear Thy voice, nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams Of past existence, wilt thou then forget That on the banks of this delightful stream We stood together ; and that I, so long A worshipper of Nature, hither came, Unwearied in that service : rather say With warmer love, oh ! with far deeper zeal Of holier love.
Page 2 - 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.