Canto iv. St. 30.
Art thou a friend to Roderick?
Canto v. St. 10.
Come one, come all! this rock shall fly
From its firm base as soon as I.
* * * * *
And the stern joy which warriors feel
In foemen worthy of their steel.
* * * * *
_The Lord of the Isles_.
Canto v. Stanza 18.
O many a shaft, at random sent,
Finds mark, the archer little meant!
And many a word at random spoken
May soothe, or wound, a heart that's broken!
* * * * *
_Old Mortality_.
Vol. ii. Chapter xxi.
Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!
To all the sensual world proclaim,
One crowded hour of glorious life
Is worth an age without a name.
_Bob Roy_.
Vol. i. Chapter ii.
O for the voice of that wild horn
On Fontarabian echoes borne.
* * * * *
_The Monastery_.
Vol. i. Chapter ii.
Within that awful volume lies
The mystery of mysteries!
* * * * *
THOMAS MOORE.
1780-1852.
_Lalla Rookh_. _The Fire-Worshippers_.
O, ever thus from childhood's hour
I've seen my fondest hopes decay;
I never loved a tree or flower,
But 'twas the first to fade away.
* * * * *
_The Light of the Harem_.
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