Line 263.
Melt, and dispel, ye spectre-doubts, that roll
Cimmerian darkness o'er the parting soul!
Line 325.
O star-eyed Science! hast thou wandered there,
To waft us home the message of despair?
Line 377.
What though my winged hours of bliss have been,
Like angel-visits, few and far between.
_O'Connor's Child_.
Another's sword has laid him low,
Another's and another's;
And every hand that dealt the blow,
Ah me! it was a brother's!
_Lochiel's Warning_.
'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.
_Ye Mariners of England_.
Ye mariners of England!
That guard our native seas,
Whose flag has braved, a thousand years,
The battle and the breeze.
* * * * *
Britannia needs no bulwarks,
No towers along the steep;
Her march is o'er the mountain waves,
Her home is on the deep.
* * * * *
_The Soldier's Dream_.
In life's morning march, when my bosom was young.
But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn,
And the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.
* * * * *
_Hohenlinden_.
The combat deepens. On, ye brave,
Who rush to glory, or the grave!
_Gertrude of Wyoming_.
Part iii. St. 1.
O love! in such a wilderness as this.
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