An Account of a Voyage to Establish a Colony at Port Philip in Bass's Strait: On the South Coast of New South Wales in His Majesty's Ship Calcutta, in the Years 1802-3-4

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Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, and J.C. Mottley, Portsmouth, 1805 - 239 Seiten
 

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Seite 50 - there is more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety and nine just persons that need no repentance.
Seite 120 - Poor child of danger, nursling of the storm, Sad are the woes that wreck thy manly form! Rocks, waves, and winds, the shattered bark delay; Thy heart is sad, thy home is far away.
Seite 120 - Now far he sweeps, where scarce a summer smiles, On Behring's rocks, or Greenland's naked isles : Cold on his midnight watch the breezes blow, From wastes that slumber in eternal snow ; And waft, across the waves' tumultuous roar, The wolf's long howl from Oonalaska's shore.
Seite 78 - Whatever blooms in torrid tracts appear, Whose bright succession decks the varied year ; Whatever sweets salute the northern sky With vernal lives, that blossom but to die ; These here disporting, own the kindred soil, Nor ask luxuriance from the planter's toil; While sea-born gales their gelid wings expand To winnow fragrance round the smiling land.
Seite 190 - I beheld a second Rome, rising from a coalition of banditti. I beheld it giving laws to the world, and superlative in arms and in. arts, looking down with proud superiority upon the barbarous nations of the northern hemisphere ; thus running over the airy visions of empire, wealth, and glory, I wandered amidst the delusions of imagination.
Seite 79 - Among the crooked lanes, on every hedge The glowworm lights his gem ; and through the dark A moving radiance twinkles.
Seite 40 - The Thunder holds his black tremendous throne ; From cloud to cloud the rending lightnings rage ; Till, in the furious elemental war Dissolved, the whole precipitated mass Unbroken floods and solid torrents pours.
Seite 119 - Where Andes, giant of the western star, With meteor standard to the winds unfurled, Looks from his throne of clouds o'er half the world.
Seite 119 - Looks from his throne of clouds o'er half the world ! Now far he sweeps, where scarce a summer smiles. On Behring's rocks, or Greenland's naked isles : Cold on...
Seite 186 - And when the sun begins to fling His flaring beams, me, Goddess, bring To arched walks of twilight groves, And shadows brown that Sylvan loves Of pine, or monumental oak, Where the rude axe with heaved stroke Was never heard the Nymphs to daunt, Or fright them from their hallowed haunt.

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