Autres éditions - Tout afficher
Page 109 - Hereditary bondsmen ! know ye not Who would be free themselves must strike the blow ? By their right arms the conquest must be wrought? Will Gaul or Muscovite redress ye? no!
Page 13 - Adieu, adieu! my native shore Fades o'er the waters blue; The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar, And shrieks the wild sea-mew. Yon sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight; Farewell awhile to him and thee, My native Land - Good Night!
Page 80 - But midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men, To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess, And roam along, the world's tired denizen, With none who bless us, none whom we can bless ; Minions of splendour shrinking from distress ! None that, with kindred consciousness endued, If we were not, would seem to smile the less Of all that flatter'd, follow'd, sought, and sued ; This is to be alone ; this, this is solitude...
Page 31 - By Heaven ! it is a splendid sight to see (For one who hath no friend, no brother there) Their rival scarfs of mix'd embroidery, Their various arms that glitter in the air ! What gallant war-hounds rouse them from their lair, And gnash their fangs, loud yelling for the prey ! All join the chase, but few the triumph share ; The Grave shall bear the chiefest prize away, And Havoc scarce for joy can number their array.
Page 70 - Look on its broken arch, its ruined wall, Its chambers desolate, and portals foul : Yes, this was once Ambition's airy hall, The Dome of Thought, the Palace of the Soul...
Page 120 - What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loved one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth, as I am now.
Page 39 - Her lover sinks — she sheds no ill-timed tear ; Her chief is slain — she fills his fatal post ; Her fellows flee — she checks their base career ; The foe retires — she heads the sallying host : Who can appease like her a lover's ghost ? Who can avenge so well a leader's fall?
Page 79 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er, or rarely been; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a" fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.