The lord of the isles. Occasional pieces

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Side 119 - We were now treading that illustrious island, which was once the luminary of the Caledonian regions, whence savage clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge, and the blessings of religion. To. abstract the mind from all local emotion would be impossible if it were endeavoured, and would be foolish if it were possible.
Side 87 - He who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow; He who surpasses or subdues mankind, Must look down on the hate of those below. Though high above the sun of glory glow, And far beneath the earth and ocean spread, Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow Contending tempests on his naked head, And thus reward the toils which to those summits led.
Side 30 - Still sways their souls with that commanding art That dazzles, leads, yet chills the vulgar heart. What is that spell, that thus his lawless train Confess and envy, yet oppose in vain? What should it be, that thus their faith can bind? The power of Thought - the magic of the Mind! Link'd with success, assumed and kept with skill, That moulds another's weakness to its will; Wields with their hands, but, still to these unknown, Makes even their mightiest deeds appear his own Such hath it been shall...
Side 117 - Where, as to shame the temples deck'd By skill of earthly architect, Nature herself, it seem'd, would raise A Minster to her Maker's praise ! Not for a meaner use ascend Her columns, or her arches bend ; Nor of a theme less solemn tells That mighty surge that ebbs and swells And still, between each awful pause, From the high vault an answer draws, In varied tone prolong'd and high, That mocks the organ's melody.
Side 30 - That man of loneliness and mystery Scarce seen to smile, and seldom heard to sigh; Whose name appals the fiercest of his crew, And tints each swarthy cheek with sallower hue; Still sways their souls with that commanding art That dazzles, leads, yet chills the vulgar heart.
Side 129 - Ours with one pang — one bound — escapes control. His corse may boast its urn and narrow cave, And they who loathed his life may gild his grave : Ours are the tears, though few, sincerely shed, When Ocean shrouds and sepulchres our dead.
Side 83 - But here, — above, around, below, On mountain or in glen, Nor tree, nor shrub, nor plant, nor flower, Nor aught of vegetative power, The weary eye may ken.
Side 199 - The partridge may the falcon mock, If that slight palfrey stand the shock — But, swerving from the knight's career, Just as they met, Bruce shunned the spear. Onward the baffled warrior bore His course — but soon his course was o'er ! — High in his stirrups stood the king, And gave his battle-axe the swing. Right on De Boune the whiles he passed Fell that stern dint — the first — the last!
Side 21 - Beyond the shadow of the ship I watched the water-snakes ; They moved in tracks of shining white ; And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire — Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam ; and every track Was a flash of golden fire.
Side 117 - And welter'd in that wondrous dome, Where, as to shame the temples deck'd By skill of earthly architect, Nature herself, it seem'd, would raise A Minster to her Maker's praise ! Not for a meaner use ascend Her columns, or her arches bend ; Nor of a theme less solemn tells That mighty surge that ebbs and...

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