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Seite 317 - Oh ! dream of joy ! is this indeed The lighthouse top I see ? Is this the hill ? is this the kirk ? Is this mine own countree ? We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, And I with sobs did pray — O let me be awake, my God ! Or let me sleep alway.
Seite 153 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — The seasons' difference : as the icy fang And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, Which when it bites and blows upon my body, Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say, This is no flattery : these are counsellors That feelingly persuade me what I am.
Seite 53 - All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.
Seite 154 - I have pass'da miserable night, So full of fearful dreams, of ugly sights, That, as I am a Christian faithful man, I would not spend another such a night, Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days; So full of dismal terror was the time.
Seite 3 - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, A wind that follows fast, And fills the white and rustling sail, And bends the gallant mast; And bends the gallant mast, my boys, While, like the eagle free, Away the good ship flies, and leaves Old England on the lee. O for a soft and gentle wind!
Seite 41 - And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends And youths and maidens gay!
Seite 304 - Melt into morn, and Light awakes the world. Man has another day to swell the past, And lead him near to little, but his last ; But mighty Nature bounds as from her birth, The sun is in the heavens, and life on earth ; Flowers in the valley, splendour in the beam, Health on the gale, and freshness in the stream. Immortal man ! behold her glories shine, And cry, exulting inly,
Seite 322 - With many a stiff thwack, many a bang, Hard crab-tree and old iron rang ; While none that saw them could divine To which side conquest would incline ; Until Magnano, who did envy...
Seite 45 - How gallantly, how merrily, We ride along the sea ! The morning is all sunshine, The wind is blowing free : The billows are all sparkling, And bounding in the light, Like creatures in whose sunny veins The blood is running bright.