Glenochel, a descriptive poem, Band 1R. Chapman, 1810 |
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Seite 2
... LOMOND's1 flowery sides , Where , ' mid the wind - wing'd clouds sublime , Thy fairy dome its summit hides ; AND , there , let Recollection trace The joys of times now fled afar . Sweet , sportive Youth ! thy jocund face No care ...
... LOMOND's1 flowery sides , Where , ' mid the wind - wing'd clouds sublime , Thy fairy dome its summit hides ; AND , there , let Recollection trace The joys of times now fled afar . Sweet , sportive Youth ! thy jocund face No care ...
Seite 3
... Lomond's brow , admire The fields of their immortal fame . YE men of peace ! that , lonely , rove Where heathy mounts to mountains swell , And seek some grot , or greenwood grove , Where truth , and faith , and freedom dwell ; SEE ...
... Lomond's brow , admire The fields of their immortal fame . YE men of peace ! that , lonely , rove Where heathy mounts to mountains swell , And seek some grot , or greenwood grove , Where truth , and faith , and freedom dwell ; SEE ...
Seite 6
... Lomond , broad and deep , To meet the orient blush of day , Its waveless waters3 , winding , creep , Relucent , o'er a pebbly way . AND , through rich fields with fragrant sides , Its stream , embower'd in greenwood , flows , Then to ...
... Lomond , broad and deep , To meet the orient blush of day , Its waveless waters3 , winding , creep , Relucent , o'er a pebbly way . AND , through rich fields with fragrant sides , Its stream , embower'd in greenwood , flows , Then to ...
Seite 31
... Lomond's foot , Reclines beside the tinkling stream : " Tis BRUCE 43 , stretch'd by a rowan's root , That , musive , shuns the fervid beam . АH ! can a bard from ORWEL's 44 vales , When Leven fires his humble song , Forget the youth who ...
... Lomond's foot , Reclines beside the tinkling stream : " Tis BRUCE 43 , stretch'd by a rowan's root , That , musive , shuns the fervid beam . АH ! can a bard from ORWEL's 44 vales , When Leven fires his humble song , Forget the youth who ...
Seite 36
... mighty have been there . DESERTED tower ! thy relics gray Waft back the soul through , times of yore , Strip splendour of its mask - array , And beckon man to mark the moral lore . RED on the ray - bright Lomond high The sun 36.
... mighty have been there . DESERTED tower ! thy relics gray Waft back the soul through , times of yore , Strip splendour of its mask - array , And beckon man to mark the moral lore . RED on the ray - bright Lomond high The sun 36.
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Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Acct afar Alloa Amid ancient appellation awful azure banks bard beam beauteous beauty Benarty Beneath bosom bowers brave Brit Bruce Burleigh Caldron Linn Caledonian Caledonian boar castle caves Celtic charms chieftain Clackmannan Cleish crags dale deeds delightful Devon dome dread Druids dryads dwell Earl of Mar fair fame Fife flow Gael gentle Glenochel glide glory gray green grove Gwyllion haunts height hill honour king Kinross land Leven Lochleven lofty Lomond lonely Lord Matilda mountain o'er Ochels patriotism peace Picts plain primeval princely proud rage Ralph Abercromby reign renown ridge rills river river Leven rock romantic round ruins Rumbling Bridge scene Scotland Scots seat shade Sibbald's Fife side silken hand silvan smile song soul Stat steep Stirling stream sublime summit sweet swell thine thou Tillicoultry tower trees vale wanderer weep wild winding yonder youth
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 182 - Now, Spring returns : but not to me returns The vernal joy my better years have known ; Dim in my breast life's dying taper burns, And all the joys of life with health are flown.
Seite 182 - And count the silent moments as they pass — The winge'd moments, whose unstaying speed No art can stop, or in their course arrest; — Whose flight shall shortly count me with the dead, And lay me down in peace with them that rest.
Seite 183 - Farewell, ye blooming fields ! ye cheerful plains ! Enough for me the church-yard's lonely mound, Where Melancholy with still Silence reigns, And the rank grass waves o'er the cheerless ground. There let me wander at the close of eve, When sleep sits dewy on the labourer's eyes, The world and all its busy follies leave, And talk with, wisdom where my DAPHNIS lies.
Seite 183 - I see the muddy wave, the dreary shore, The sluggish streams that slowly creep below, Which mortals visit, and return no more.
Seite 173 - Constantinople, the most skilful sculptors and architects of the age ; and the buildings were sustained or adorned by twelve hundred columns of Spanish and African, of Greek and Italian marble. The hall of audience was encrusted with gold and pearls, and a great basin in the centre was surrounded with the curious and cosily figures of birds and quadrupeds.
Seite 188 - I stop my horse involuntarily ;— and looking on the window, which the honey-suckle has now almost covered, in the dream of the moment, I picture out a figure for the gentle tenant of the mansion ; I wish, and my heart swells while I de so, that he were alive, and that I were a great man. to have the luxury of visiting him there, and bidding him be happy.
Seite 183 - Oft morning dreams presage approaching fate ; And morning dreams, as poets tell, are true ; Led by pale ghosts, I enter death's dark gate, And bid the realms of light and life adieu.
Seite 173 - In a lofty pavilion of the gardens, one of these basins and fountains, so delightful in a sultry climate, was replenished not with water but with the purest quicksilver. The seraglio of Abdalrahman, his wives, concubines, and black eunuchs, amounted to six thousand three hundred persons; and he was attended to the field by a guard of twelve thousand horse, whose belts and scimitars were studded with gold.
Seite 188 - ... window at the end, instead of a lattice, fringed with a honeysuckle plant, which the poor youth had trained around it ; — I never find myself in that spot, but I stop my horse involuntarily; and looking on the window, which the honey-suckle has now almost covered, in the dream of the moment, I picture out a figure for the gentle tenant of the mansion; I wish, and my heart swells while I do...
Seite 207 - Such were the words of the bards in the days of song; when the king heard the music of harps, the tales of other times! The chiefs gathered from all their hills, and heard the lovely sound. They praised the voice of Cona! the first among a thousand bards!