Braving the tempests of the night
Have I ‘scaped the flickering flame.
Like the scathed pine, which a monument stands
Of faded grandeur, which the brands
Of the tempest-shaken air
Have riven on the desolate heath;
Yet it stands majestic even in death,
And rears its wild form there.
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The fierce beasts of the woods and wildernesses
For the light breezes, which for ever fleetAround its margin, heap the sand thereon.
Oh! did you observe the Black Canon pass,
He goeth to say the midnight mass,In holy St. Edmond’s town.He goeth to sing the burial chaunt,And to lay the wandering sprite,Whose shadowy, restless form doth haunt,The Abbey’s drear aisle this night.It saith it will not its wailing cease,‘Till that holy man come near,‘Till he pour o’er its grave the prayer of peace,And sprinkle the…
Ah! sweet is the moonbeam that sleeps on yon fountain,
And sweet is the glimpse of yon dimly-seen mountain,‘Neath the verdant arcades of yon shadowy trees.But sweeter than all was thy tone of affection,Which scarce seemed to break on the stillness of eve,Though the time it is past!–yet the dear recollection,For aye in the heart of thy [Percy] must live.Yet he hears thy dear voice…
I.
Stones on the pavement are dumb;Abortions are dead in the womb,And their mothers look pale—like the death-white shoreOf Albion, free no more.II.Her sons are as stones in the way–They are masses of senseless clay–They are trodden, and move not away,–The abortion with which SHE travailethIs Liberty, smitten to death.III.Then trample and dance, thou Oppressor!For thy…
I.
All beautiful and bright as thou,The loveliest and the last, is dead,Rise, Memory, and write its praise!Up,–to thy wonted work! come, traceThe epitaph of glory fled,–For now the Earth has changed its face,A frown is on the Heaven’s brow.II.We wandered to the Pine ForestThat skirts the Ocean’s foam,The lightest wind was in its nest,The tempest…
Cold, cold is the blast when December is howling,
Stern are the seas when the wild waves are rolling,And sad is the grave where a loved one lies low;But colder is scorn from the being who loved thee,More stern is the sneer from the friend who has proved thee,More sad are the tears when their sorrows have moved thee,Which mixed with groans anguish and…