The Poetical Works of James Macfarlan

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R. Forrester, 1882 - 200 pages
 

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Page 98 - sets upon the empire of his fame, And still unwearied is the wing that bears abroad his name : There may be grander bards than he, there may be loftier songs, But none have touch'd with nobler nerve the poor man's rights and wrongs; Then while unto the hazy past the eye of fancy turns,
Page 95 - and veil'd with victory; But hearts leap loving to its note, and kindling bosoms glow To hail the Poet born to fame a hundred years ago. 0 ! like a glorious bird of God, he leapt up from the earth, A lark in song's exalted heaven, a robin by the hearth
Page 96 - have felt the potent charm, Till sinking valour leapt to life, and strung the nerveless arm. How hearts in dreariest loneliness have toil'd through barren brine—• The only glimpse of sunshine then, his pictures o' langsyne; How far amid the western wilds, by one enchanting tune, The wide Missouri fades away in dreams of
Page 99 - WHEN the dim presence of the awful night Clasps in her jewell'd arms the slumbering earth, Alone I sit beside the lowly light That like a dream-fire flickers on my hearth, With some joy-teeming volume in my hand — A peopled planet, opulent and grand.
Page 97 - That smote the rock of poverty with song's enchanting rod, Till joy into a million hearts in streams of beauty flow'd; And while that arm could stretch to heaven and wield the lightning's dart, It brought the glorious sunshine
Page 95 - IN lonely hut and lordly hall a mighty voice is heard, And 'neath its wild bewitching spell the honest brows are bared : From Scotland's hills and twilight glens to far Columbian
Page 99 - great mind beaming through those phantom crowds, Like evening sun from out a wealth of clouds. It may be Milton, on his seraph wing, Soaring to heights of grandeur yet untrod ; Now deep where horrid shapes of darkness cling, Now lost in splendour at the feet of God : Girt with the terror of
Page 96 - How shall we tell his wondrous power, how shall we say or sing What magic to a million hearts his deathless strains can bring ! How men on murkest
Page 99 - lowly light That like a dream-fire flickers on my hearth, With some joy-teeming volume in my hand — A peopled planet, opulent and grand. It may be
Page 134 - palace is theirs, no castle great, No princely, pillared hall; But they well can laugh at the roofs of state,

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