Lays of Ancient Rome: with Ivry, and the Armada

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J. Miller, 1862 - 181 ページ
 

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168 ページ - He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye; He looked upon the traitors, and his glance was stern and high. Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled from wing to wing, Down all our line, a deafening shout, " God save our Lord the King...
48 ページ - Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the Gate: " To every man upon this earth Death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds, For the ashes of his fathers, And the temples of his Gods, XXVIII.
59 ページ - Alone stood brave Horatius, But constant still in mind ; Thrice thirty thousand foes before, And the broad flood behind. " Down with him ! " cried false Sextus, With a smile on his pale face. "Now yield thee," cried Lars Porsena,
167 ページ - Now let there be the merry sound of music and of dance, Through thy cornfields green and sunny vines, O pleasant land of France ! And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters, Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters. As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy, For cold, and stiff, and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy.
58 ページ - Back darted Spurius Lartius; Herminius darted back: And, as they passed, beneath their feet They felt the timbers crack. But when they turned their faces, And on the farther shore Saw brave Horatius stand alone, They would have crossed once more.
60 ページ - No sound of joy or sorrow Was heard from either bank; But friends and foes, in dumb surprise, With parted lips and straining eyes, Stood gazing where he sank; And when above the surges They saw his crest appear. All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, And even the ranks of Tuscany Could scarce forbear to cheer.
169 ページ - A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest ; And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a guiding star, Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre.
168 ページ - Oh ! how our hearts were beating, when, at the dawn of day, We saw the army of the League drawn out in long array; With all its priest-led citizens, and all its rebel peers, And Appenzel's stout infantry, and Egmont's Flemish spears. There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of our land ; And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his hand : And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine's...
179 ページ - Hampstead's swarthy moor they started for the north ; And on, and on, without a pause, untired they bounded still : All night from tower to tower they sprang ; they sprang from hill to hill...
171 ページ - ... rend your hair for those who never shall return. Ho ! Philip, send, for charity, thy Mexican pistoles, That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spearmen's souls ! Ho ! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be bright ! Ho ! burghers of...

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