The Masterpieces and the History of Literature: Analysis, Criticism, Character and Incident, Volume 8

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Page 361 - BREATHES there the man with soul so dead Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, As home his footsteps he hath turned, From wandering on a foreign strand...
Page 314 - THOU ling'ring star, with less'ning ray, That lov'st to greet the early morn, Again thou usher'st in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O, Mary ! dear departed shade ! Where is thy place of blissful rest ? Seest thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?
Page 350 - John he cried, But John he cried in vain, That trot became a gallop soon In spite of curb and rein. So stooping down, as needs he must Who cannot sit upright, He grasp'd the mane with both his hands, And eke with all his might.
Page 352 - Toll for the brave ! Brave Kempenfelt is gone ; His last sea-fight is fought ; His work of glory done. It was not in the battle ; No tempest gave the shock ; She sprang no fatal leak ; She ran upon no rock.
Page 363 - I tell thee, thou'rt defied ! And if thou said'st I am not peer To any lord in Scotland here, Lowland or Highland, far or near, Lord Angus, thou hast lied...
Page 314 - I forget the hallowed grove, Where by the winding Ayr we met, To live one day of parting love ! Eternity will not efface Those records dear of transports past ; Thy image at our last embrace ; Ah ! little thought we 'twas our last ! Ayr gurgling kissed his pebbled shore, O'erhung with wild woods, thickening, green ; The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar, Twined amorous round the raptured scene.
Page 312 - They chant their artless notes in simple guise; They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim : Perhaps ' Dundee's ' wild warbling measures rise, Or plaintive *• Martyrs...
Page 353 - Atlantic billows roar'd, When such a destined wretch as I, Wash'd headlong from on board, Of friends, of hope, of all bereft, His floating home for ever left. No braver chief could Albion boast Than he with whom he went, Nor ever ship left Albion's coast With warmer wishes sent.
Page 297 - O whare will I get a skeely skipper To sail this new ship of mine ? " O up and spake an eldern knight, Sat at the king's right knee — " Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor That ever sailed the sea.
Page 351 - Well done ! As loud as he could bawl. Away went Gilpin — who but he ? His fame soon spread around, He carries weight ! he rides a race ! Tis for a thousand pound...

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