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" Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, Survey our empire, and behold our home! These are our realms, no limits to their sway Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey. "
History of Rome and the Roman People: From Its Origin to the Establishment ... - Page 792
de Victor Duruy - 1884
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A Manual of English Literature, Historical and Critical: With an Appendix on ...

Thomas Arnold - 1873 - 590 pages
...our home. These are our realms, no limits to their sway — Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey. Ours the wild life in tumult still to range From toil to rest, and joy in every change. Oh, who can tell ? not thou, luxurious slave ! Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave ! Not...
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A New Library of Poetry and Song, Volume 2

William Cullen Bryant - 1877 - 576 pages
...our home ! These are our realms, no limits to their sway ; Our flag the scepter all who meet obey. Ours the wild life in tumult still to range From toil to rest, and joy in every change. 0, who can tell ? not thou, luxurious slave ! Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave ; Not thou,...
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A New Library of Poetry and Song, Volume 2

William Cullen Bryant - 1877 - 630 pages
...our home ! These are our realms, no limits to their sway, — Our flag the scepter all who meet obey. Ours the wild life in tumult still to range From toil to rest, and joy in every change. 0, who can tell ? not thon, luxurious slave ! Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave ; Not thou,...
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The flower of the forest; or, Mary Rock, Volume 174

Percy Bolingbroke St. John - 1878 - 372 pages
...Government or not, I know not where such a consummation is to be effected. Ours was in reality here — "The wild life in tumult still to range, From toil to rest, and joy in every change." Nor were we much less piratical indeed than those in whose mouths the poet has put these words. The...
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The Family Library of Poetry and Song: Being Choice Selections from the Best ...

William Cullen Bryant - 1880 - 1124 pages
...our home ! These are our realms, no limits to their sway, — Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey. was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy O, who can tell ? not thou, luxurious slave ! Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave; Not thou,...
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Poetry of Byron

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1881 - 326 pages
...our home ! These are our realms, no limits to their sway — Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey. Ours the wild life in tumult still to range From toil to rest, and joy in every change. Oh, who can tell ? not thou, luxurious slave ! Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave ; Not...
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Poetry of Byron, chosen by M. Arnold

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1881 - 342 pages
...our home ! These are our realms, no limits to their sway — Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey. Ours the wild life in tumult still to range From toil to rest, and joy in every change. Oh, who can tell ? not thou, luxurious slave ! Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave ; Not...
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Poetry of Byron

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1881 - 338 pages
...home ! These are our realms, no limits to their sway — • Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey. Ours the wild life in tumult still to range From toil to rest, and joy in every change. Oh, who can tell ? not thou, luxurious slave ! Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave ; Not...
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The poetical works of lord Byron. Repr. with life, notes &c. 'Albion' ed

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1881 - 802 pages
...our home ! These are our realms, no limits to their sway — Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey. , which but an hour ago Blush 'd at the praise of their own loveliness ; And there Oh, who can tell ? not thou, luxurious slave ! Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave; Not thou,...
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Poet's walk, an introduction to English poetry, chosen by M. Morris

Mowbray Walter Morris - 1882 - 424 pages
...our home ! These are our realms, no limits to their sway — Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey. Ours the wild life in tumult still to range, From toil to rest, and joy in every change. Oh, who can tell ? not thou, luxurious slave ! Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave ; Not...
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