Soldiers and Sailors in Peace as in War

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Page 112 - Thus to relieve the wretched was his pride, And e'en his failings leaned to virtue's side ; But in his duty prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all.
Page 65 - The startled waves leap over it ; the storm Smites it with all the scourges of the rain, And steadily against its solid form Press the great shoulders of the hurricane. The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din Of wings and winds and solitary cries, Blinded and maddened by the light within, Dashes himself against the glare, and dies.
Page 83 - The voice of the Lord maketh the hinds to calve, and discovereth the forests: and in his temple doth every one speak of his glory. 10 The Lord sitteth upon the flood; yea, the Lord sitteth King for ever.
Page 101 - Within himself, from more to more ; Or, crown'd with attributes of woe Like glories, move his course, and show That life is not as idle ore, But iron dug from central gloom, And heated hot with burning fears, And dipt in baths of hissing tears, And batter'd with the shocks of doom To shape and use.
Page 65 - And the great ships sail outward and return, Bending and bowing o'er the billowy swells, And ever joyful, as they see it burn, They wave their silent welcomes and farewells.
Page 72 - The dawn, the dawn,' and died away; And East and West, without a breath, Mixt their dim lights, like life and death, To broaden into boundless day.
Page 65 - Not one alone ; from each projecting cape And perilous reef along the ocean's verge, Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape, Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge.
Page 98 - A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widow, is God in his holy habitation.
Page 19 - Tis o'er — thou art a man ! — The struggle and the tempest both begin, Where he who faints must fail— he fight who can, A victory to win. Say, toilest thou for gold / Will all that earth can give of drossy hues Compensate for that land of love foretold, Which mammon makes thee lose ? Or, waitest thou for power ? A proud ambition, trifler, doth thee raise ! — To be the gilded bauble of the hour, That...
Page iv - Fight onwards to the breach, brave heart ! Where victory o'er Life is won ; To mourn is but the coward's part, Thou hast the warrior's now begun : Pour out thy last, best, ruddiest drop, But 'till thy wild pulsation stop, Fight on, brave heart, fight on ! The...

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