Miscellanies Selected from the Public Journals, Volume 2

Joseph T. Buckingham, 1824

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Page 191 - ... ocean Are bending like corn on the upland lea: And life, in rare and beautiful forms, Is sporting amid those bowers of stone, And is safe when the wrathful spirit of storms Has made the top of the wave his own; And when the ship from his fury flies, Where the myriad voices of ocean roar, When the wind-god frowns in the murky skies, And demons are waiting the wreck on shore; Then far below in the peaceful sea, The purple mullet and gold-fish rove, Where the waters murmur tranquilly, Through the...
Page 18 - Come on, sir; here's the place: stand still. How fearful And dizzy 'tis, to cast one's eyes so low! The crows and choughs that wing the midway air Show scarce so gross as beetles: halfway down Hangs one that gathers samphire, dreadful trade!
Page 191 - Deep in the wave is a Coral Grove, Where the purple mullet and gold-fish rove, Where the sea-flower spreads its leaves of blue, That never are wet with falling dew, But in bright and changeful beauty shine, Far down in the green and glassy brine.
Page 43 - Robbins was a Senator in the Congress of the United States from the State of...
Page 18 - tis to cast one's eyes so low ! The crows, and choughs, that wing the midway air, Show scarce so gross as beetles. Half way down Hangs one that gathers samphire ; dreadful trade ! Methinks he seems no bigger than his head. The fishermen, that walk upon the beach, Appear like mice ; and yon' tall, anchoring bark, Diminished to her cock ; her cock, a buoy Almost too small for sight. The murmuring surge, That on the unnumbered idle pebbles chafes, Cannot be heard so high. I'll look no more ; Lest my...
Page 63 - THE thoughts are strange that crowd into my brain, While I look upward to thee. It would seem As if God poured thee from his hollow hand, And hung his bow upon thine awful front; And spoke in that loud voice, which seemed to him Who dwelt in Patmos for his Saviour's sake, The sound of many waters ; and had bade Thy flood to chronicle the ages back, And notch His centuries in the eternal rocks.
Page 39 - Dom. 1775, The Die was Cast!!! The Blood of these Martyrs In the cause of God and their Country was the Cement of the Union of these States, then Colonies, and gave the spring to the Spirit, Firmness and Resolution of their Fellow Citizens.
Page 61 - mid the cheerless hours of night, A mother wandered with her child. As through the drifted snows she pressed, The babe was sleeping on her breast. And colder still the winds did blow, And darker hours of night came on, And deeper grew the drifts of snow — Her limbs were chilled, her strength was gone — " O God," she cried, in accents wild, " If I must perish, save my child!
Page 60 - For my kindred are gone to the hills of the dead; But they died not by hunger, or lingering decay ; The steel of the white man hath swept them away. This snake-skin, that once I so sacredly wore, I will toss, with disdain, to the storm-beaten shore; Its charms I no longer obey, or invoke ; Its spirit hath left me, its spell is now broke.
Page 161 - The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike the inevitable hour: The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

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