The Poetical Register, and Repository of Fugitive Poetry for 1801-11, Volume 3

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F.C. & J. Rivington, 1805 - English poetry
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Page 189 - Sir Ralph the Rover walk'd his deck, And he fixed his eye on the darker speck. He felt the cheering power of spring, It made him whistle, it made him sing ; His heart was mirthful to excess, But the Rover's mirth was wickedness. His eye was on the Inchcape float ; Quoth he, ' My men, put out the boat, And row me to the Inchcape Rock, And I'll plague the priest of Aberbrothok.
Page 190 - They hear no sound; the swell is strong; Though the wind hath fallen, they drift along. Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock: "O Christ! it is the Inchcape Rock!
Page 190 - Sir Ralph the Rover sailed away; He scoured the seas for many a day: And now, grown rich with plundered store. He steers his course for Scotland's shore. So thick a haze o'erspreads the sky, They cannot see the sun on high: The wind hath blown a gale all day; At evening it hath died away. On the deck the Rover takes his stand; So dark it is, they see no land. Quoth Sir Ralph, "It will be lighter soon, For there is the dawn of the rising moon.
Page 371 - Prisoner, long detained below, Prisoner, now with freedom blest, Welcome from a world of woe; Welcome to a land of rest...
Page 188 - No stir in the air, no stir in the sea, The ship was still as she could be, Her sails from heaven received no motion, Her keel was steady in the ocean. Without either sign or sound of their shock The waves flow'd over the Inchcape Rock ; So little they rose, so little they fell, They did not move the Inchcape Bell.
Page 318 - And this reft house is that the which he built, Lamented Jack! And here his malt he pil'd, Cautious in vain! These rats that squeak so wild, Squeak, not unconscious of their father's guilt. Did ye not see her gleaming thro
Page 190 - The wind hath blown a gale all day; At evening it hath died away. On the deck the Rover takes his stand; So dark it is they see no land. Quoth Sir Ralph," It will be lighter soon, For there is the dawn of the rising Moon.
Page 373 - Welcome to a Land of Rest ! Thus the choir of angels sing, As they bear the soul on high, While with hallelujahs ring All the regions of the sky.
Page 188 - On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung, And over the waves its warning rung. When the Rock was hid by the surge's swell, The mariners heard the warning Bell ; And then they knew the perilous Rock, And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok.
Page 190 - Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair, He curst himself in his despair: The waves rush in on every side; The ship is sinking beneath the tide. But even in his dying fear. One dreadful sound could the Rover hear, — A sound as if, with the Inchcape Bell, The Devil below was ringing his knell.

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