The Poetical Register, and Repository of Fugitive Poetry ..., Volume 3 (Google eBook)

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F. C. & J. Rivington, 1805 - English poetry
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Page 217 - And he fixed his eye on the darker speck. He felt the cheering power of Spring ; It made him whistle, it made him sing ; His heart was mirthful to excess, But the rover's mirth was wickedness. His eye was on the Inchcape float ; Quoth he, " My men, put out the boat, And row me to the Inchcape rock, And I'll plague the abbot of Aberbrothok.
Page 218 - The wind hath blown a gale all day; At evening it hath died away. On the deck the Rover takes his stand; So dark it is they see no land. Quoth Sir Ralph," It will be lighter soon, For there is the dawn of the rising Moon.
Page 217 - Down sunk the bell, with a gurgling sound, The bubbles rose and burst around; Quoth Sir Ralph, "The next who comes to the Rock Won't bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok.
Page 218 - Now where we are I cannot tell, But I wish I could hear the Inchcape Bell. " They hear no sound ; the swell is strong ; Though the wind hath fallen, they drift along, Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock: " O Christ! it is the Inchcape Rock!
Page 216 - Rover walked his deck, And he fixed his eye on the darker speck. He felt the cheering power of spring; It made him whistle, it made him sing; His heart was mirthful to excess, But the Rover's mirth was wickedness. His eye was on the Inchcape float; Quoth he,
Page 216 - No STIR in the air, no stir in the sea: The ship was still as she could be; Her sails from heaven received no motion; Her keel was steady in the ocean. Without either sign or sound of their shock, The waves flowed over the Inchcape Rock; So little they rose, so little they fell, They did not move the Inchcape Bell.
Page 216 - On a buoy in the storm it floated and swung, And over the waves its warning rung. When the Rock was hid by the surge's swell, The mariners heard the warning Bell ; And then they knew the perilous Rock, And blest the Abbot of Aberbrothok.
Page 293 - He many a creature did anatomize, Almost unpeopling water, air, and land ; Beasts, fishes, birds, snails, caterpillars, flies, Were laid full low by his relentless hand, That oft with gory crimson was...
Page 439 - Scottish Scenery, or, Sketches in Verse, descriptive of Scenes chiefly in the Highlands of Scotland, with Notes and Illustrations, by James Cririe, DD Ornamented with Engravings by Byrne, from Views by Walker.
Page 347 - I do love thee, meek Simplicity! For of thy lays the lulling simpleness Goes to my heart and soothes each small distress, Distress though small, yet haply great to me! 'Tis true on Lady Fortune's gentlest pad I amble on; yet, though I know not why, So sad I am!

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