The Complete Poetical Works of Thomas Campbell

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H. Frowde, Oxford University Press, 1907 - Poets, Scottish - 376 pages

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Page 196 - 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. By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, Each horseman drew his battle blade,
Page 93 - Every one who recollects the specimen of Indian eloquence given in the speech of Logan, a Mingo chief, to the Governor of Virginia, will perceive that I have attempted to paraphrase its concluding and most striking expression—' There runs not a drop of my blood in the veins of any living creature.' The similar salutation of the fictitious
Page 189 - OF 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. Like leviathans afloat
Page 187 - And Ocean was their grave. Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell Your manly hearts shall glow, As ye sweep through the deep. While the stormy winds do blow,— While the battle rages loud and long, And the stormy winds do blow. in Britannia needs no bulwarks, No towers along the steep ; Her march is o'er the
Page 94 - my country I rejoice at the beams of peace ;—but do not harbour a thought that mine is the joy of fear. Logan never felt fear. He will not turn on his heel to save his life.—Who is there to mourn for Logan ? not one ! '—Jefferson's
Page 167 - For sore dismayed, through storm and shade, His child he did discover : One lovely hand she stretched for aid, And one was round her lover. ' Come back ! come back ! ' he cried in grief Across the stormy water : 50 ' And I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter ! oh my daughter !
Page 189 - 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 path There was silence deep as death, And the boldest held his breath For a time.
Page 191 - VI Then Denmark blessed our chief That he gave her wounds repose ; And the sounds of joy and grief From her people wildly rose, As death withdrew his shades from the day ; While the sun looked smiling bright O'er a wide and woeful sight, Where the fires of funeral light Died away.
Page 157 - of Culloden are scattered in fight. They rally, they bleed for their kingdom and crown ; Woe, woe to the riders that trample them down ! Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain, And their hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain. But hark ! through the fast-flashing lightning of war What steed to the desert flies frantic and far
Page 195 - death has quenched your flame, Yet immortal be your name, For ye died the death of fame With Riou ! Soft sigh the winds of heaven O'er your grave ! While the billow mournful rolls, And the mermaid's song condoles, .Singing glory to the souls Of the brave ! HOHENLINDEN

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