Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern, Band 7

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International Society, 1897
 

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Seite 2947 - Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, Ye ! Whose agonies are evils of a day — A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. The Niobe of nations! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; An empty urn within her...
Seite 2942 - The isles of Greece ! the isles of Greece ! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
Seite 2847 - Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays; Hope 'springs exulting on triumphant wing,' That thus they all shall meet in future days, There ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear, While circling Time moves round in an eternal sphere.
Seite 2856 - Whare sits our sulky, sullen dame, Gathering her brows like gathering storm, Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. This truth fand honest Tam o...
Seite 2931 - Twas Presbyterian true blue, For he was of that stubborn crew Of errant saints, whom all men grant To be the true church militant ; Such as do build their faith upon The holy text of pike and gun ; Decide all controversies by Infallible artillery ; And prove their doctrine orthodox By apostolic blows and knocks...
Seite 2846 - The sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace, The big ha'-Bible, ance his father's pride : His bonnet rev'rently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare ; Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, He wales a portion with judicious care, And " Let us worship God !
Seite 2855 - Low i' the dust. Such is the fate of simple bard, On life's rough ocean luckless starred! Unskillful he to note the card Of prudent lore, Till billows rage, and gales blow hard, And whelm him o'er! Such fate to suffering worth is...
Seite 2854 - Thou's met me in an evil hour ; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem : To spare thee now is past my power, Thou bonnie gem. Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, The bonnie lark, companion meet, Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet ! Wi' speckled breast, When upward-springing, blithe, to greet The purpling east.
Seite 2848 - An honest man's the noblest work of God ; " And certes, in fair Virtue's heavenly road, The cottage leaves the palace far behind. What is a lordling's pomp? a cumbrous load, Disguising oft the wretch of human kind, Studied in arts of hell, in wickedness refined.
Seite 2965 - His steps are not upon thy paths- — thy fields Are not a spoil for him — thou dost arise And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies. And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray, And howling, to his gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay. And dashest him again to earth: there let him lay.

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