The island home; or, The young castaways, ed. by Christopher Romaunt, Volum 718

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Pàgina 123 - Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court? Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, — The seasons...
Pàgina 32 - All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean.
Pàgina 23 - O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been Alone on a wide wide sea: So lonely 'twas, that God Himself Scarce seemed there to be.
Pàgina 73 - The swift volution, and the enormous train, Let sages versed in Nature's lore explain — The horrid apparition still draws nigh, And white with foam the whirling billows fly.
Pàgina 259 - Melt into morn, and Light awakes the world. Man has another day to swell the past, And lead him near to little, but his last ; But mighty Nature bounds as from her birth, The sun is in the heavens, and life on earth ; Flowers in the valley, splendour in the beam, Health on the gale, and freshness in the stream. Immortal man ! behold her glories shine, And cry, exulting inly,
Pàgina 277 - With many a stiff thwack, many a bang, Hard crab-tree and old iron rang ; While none that saw them could divine To which side conquest would incline ; Until Magnano, who did envy...
Pàgina 243 - Winter comes, to rule the varied year, Sullen and sad, with all his rising train — Vapours, and clouds, and storms. Be these my theme ; These, that exalt the soul to solemn thought And heavenly musing. Welcome, kindred glooms...
Pàgina 270 - We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, And I with sobs did pray — O let me be awake, my God! Or let me sleep alway. The harbour-bay was clear as glass, So smoothly it was strewn! And on the bay the moonlight lay, And the shadow of the Moon.
Pàgina 25 - How gallantly, how merrily, We ride along the sea ! The morning is all sunshine, The wind is blowing free : The billows are all sparkling, And bounding in the light, Like creatures in whose sunny veins The blood is running bright.

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