The Siege of Corinth: A Poem ; Parisina : a Poem

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John Murray, 1816 - 89 pages
 

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Page 28 - Out upon Time ! it will leave no more Of the things to come than the things before ! Out upon Time ! who for ever will leave But enough of the past for the future to grieve...
Page 26 - As it slipp'd through their jaws, when their edge grew dull ; As they lazily mumbled the bones of the dead, When they scarce could rise from the spot where they fed, So well had they broken a lingering fast With those who had fallen for that night's repast.
Page 27 - But when all is past, it is humbling to tread O'er the weltering field of the tombless dead, And see worms of the earth, and fowls of the air, Beasts of the forest, all gathering there ; All regarding man as their prey, All rejoicing in his decay.
Page 63 - It is the hour when lovers' vows Seem sweet in every whisper'd word ; And gentle winds, and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the heaven that clear obscure, So softly dark, and darkly pure, Which follows the decline of day, As twilight melts beneath the moon away.
Page 16 - Tis midnight : on the mountains brown The cold, round moon shines deeply down ; Blue roll the waters, blue the sky Spreads like an ocean hung on high, Bespangled with those isles of light, So wildly, spiritually bright ; Who ever gazed upon them shining And turned to earth without repining, Nor wished for wings to flee away, And mix with their eternal ray...
Page 17 - And echo answered from th'e hill, And the wide hum of that wild host Rustled like leaves from coast to coast, As rose the Muezzin's voice in air, In midnight call to wonted prayer.
Page 25 - And he saw the lean dogs beneath the wall Hold o'er the dead their carnival, Gorging and growling o'er carcass and limb...
Page 23 - They fell devoted, but undying , The very gale their names seemed sighing : The waters murmured of their name ; The woods were peopled with their fame ; The silent pillar , lone and gray, Claimed kindred with their sacred clay ; Their spirits wrapt the dusky mountain , Their memory sparkled o'er the fountain; The meanest rill, the mightiest river , Rolled mingling with their fame for ever.
Page 24 - Tis still a watch-word to the earth : When man would do a deed of worth He points to Greece , and turns to tread, So sanctioned , on the tyrant's head : He looks to her, and rushes on Where life is lost, or freedom won.
Page 7 - Many a vanish'd year and age, And tempest's breath, and battle's rage, Have swept o'er Corinth ; yet she stands, A fortress form'd to Freedom's hands. ' The whirlwind's wrath, the earthquake's shock, Have left untouch'd her hoary rock, The keystone of a land, which still, Though fall'n, looks proudly on that hill, The landmark to the double tide That purpling rolls on either side, As if their waters chafed to meet. Yet...

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