The nocturnal minstrel; or, The spirit of the wood, Bind 2

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Side 113 - From wandering on a foreign strand? If such there breathe, go mark him well; For him no minstrel raptures swell; High though his titles, proud his name, Boundless his wealth as wish can claim, Despite those titles, power and pelf, The wretch concentred all in self, Living, shall forfeit fair renown, And, doubly dying, shall go down To the vile dust from whence he sprung, Unwept, unhonored, and unsung.
Side 113 - BREATHES there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land ! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd, As home his footsteps he hath turn'd, From wandering on a foreign strand...
Side 50 - A palmer's amice wrapped him round, With a wrought Spanish baldric bound, Like a pilgrim from beyond the sea: His left hand held his Book of Might, A silver cross was in his right; The lamp was placed beside his knee.
Side 135 - To man below, beneath the heav'n ; It is not fantasy's hot fire, Whose wishes soon as granted die ; It liveth not in fierce desire, With dead deaiie it doth not die.

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