Tales of Field and Flood;: With Sketches of Life at Home

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Oliver & Boyd, Tweeddale-court; and Simpkin & Marshall, London., 1829 - 329 pages

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Page 319 - A land of beauty, virtue, valor, truth, Time-tutored age, and love-exalted youth : The wandering mariner, whose eye explores The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores, Views not a realm so bountiful and fair, Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air. In every clime, the...
Page 99 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean roll [ Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed...
Page 173 - I'll look into them : so, giving up the argument, I went straight to my lodgings, put up half a dozen shirts and a black pair of silk breeches ;
Page 151 - One fatal remembrance, one sorrow that throws Its bleak shade alike o'er our joys and our woes, To which life nothing darker or brighter can bring, For which joy has no balm and affliction no sting...
Page 15 - Farewell the tranquil mind ! Farewell content ! Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars, That make ambition virtue ! O, farewell ! Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump, The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife, The royal banner ; and all quality. Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war ! And O, you mortal engines, whose rude throats The immortal Jove's dread clamours counterfeit, Farewell ! Othello's occupation's gone ! lago.
Page 319 - An angel-guard of loves and graces lie ; Around her knees domestic duties meet, And fire-side pleasures gambol at her feet. Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found? " Art thou a man a patriot ? look around, O thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam, That land thy country, and that spot thy home.
Page 55 - Oh, grief, beyond all other griefs, when fate First leaves the young heart lone and desolate In the wide world, without that only tie For which it loved to live or fear'd to die ; Lorn as the hung-up lute, that ne'er hath spoken Since the sad day its master-chord was broken...
Page 182 - Blest power of sunshine ! genial Day, What balm, what life is in thy ray ! To feel thee is such real bliss, That had the world no joy but this, To sit in suushine calm and sweet, It were a world too exquisite For man to leave it for the gloom, The deep, cold shadow of the tomb...
Page 196 - They mourn, but smile at length; and, smiling, mourn: The tree will wither long before it fall ; The hull drives on, though mast and sail be torn...
Page 286 - Ne'er tell me of glories serenely adorning The close of our day, the calm eve of our night : Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of Morning, Her clouds and her tears are worth Evening's best light.

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