The Corsair

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B. Cormon and Blanc, 1835 - 55 páginas

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Página 5 - O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, Survey our empire, and behold our home!
Página 37 - SLOW sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, Along Morea's hills the setting sun ; Not, as in Northern climes, obscurely bright, But one unclouded blaze of living light ! O'er the hush'd deep the yellow beam he throws, Gilds the green wave, that trembles as it glows.
Página 6 - That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way? That for itself can woo the approaching fight, And turn what some deem danger to delight ; That seeks what cravens shun with more than zeal, And where the feebler faint can only...
Página 5 - Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey. Ours the wild life in tumult still to range From toil to rest, and joy in every change. Oh, who can tell? not thou, luxurious slave ! Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave; Not thou, vain lord of wantonness and ease! Whom...
Página 6 - Ours with one pang — one bound — escapes control. His corse may boast its urn and narrow cave, And they who loathed his life may gild his grave : Ours are the tears, though few, sincerely shed, When Ocean shrouds and sepulchres our dead.
Página 10 - That man of loneliness and mystery Scarce seen to smile, and seldom heard to sigh; Whose name appals the fiercest of his crew, And tints each swarthy cheek with sallower hue; Still sways their souls with that commanding art That dazzles, leads, yet chills the vulgar heart. What is that spell, that thus his lawless train Confess and envy, yet oppose in vain?
Página 36 - Oh! too convincing - dangerously dear In woman's eye the unanswerable tear That weapon of her weakness she can wield, To save, subdue at once her spear and shield: Avoid it - Virtue ebbs and Wisdom errs, Too fondly gazing on that grief of hers! What lost a world, and bade a hero fly? The timid tear in Cleopatra's eye. Yet be the soft triumvir's fault forgiven; By this - how many lose not earth - but heaven!
Página 14 - There, in its centre, a sepulchral lamp Burns the slow flame, eternal — but unseen ; Which not the darkness of despair can damp, Though vain its ray as it had never been.
Página 11 - There was a laughing Devil in his sneer, That raised emotions both of rage and fear; And where his frown of hatred darkly fell, Hope withering fled, and Mercy sigh'd farewell!
Página 37 - O'er the hush'd deep the yellow beam he throws Gilds the green wave, that trembles as it glows. On old /Egina's rock, and Idra's isle, The god of gladness sheds his parting smile; O'er his own regions lingering, loves to shine, Though there his altars are no more divine. Descending fast the mountain shadows kiss Thy glorious gulf, unconquer'd Salamis!

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