Memoirs of Ebenezer Elliott. With criticisms upon his writings


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Página 11 - But for those first affections, Those shadowy recollections, Which, be they what they may, Are yet the fountain light of all our day, Are yet a master light of all our seeing; Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make Our noisy years seem moments in the being Of the eternal Silence...
Página 52 - Strike, tawdry slaves, and ye shall know Our gloom is fire. In vain your pomp, ye evil powers, Insults the land ; Wrongs, vengeance, and the cause are ours, And God's right hand ! Madmen ! they trample into snakes The wormy clod I Like fire, beneath their feet awakes The sword of God ! Behind, before, above, below, They rouse the brave ; Where'er they go, they make a foe, Or find a grave.
Página 123 - When wilt Thou save the people ? O God of mercy! when? Not kings and lords, but nations ! Not thrones and crowns, but men ! Flowers of thy heart, O God, are they! Let them not pass, like weeds, away! Their heritage a sunless day ! God, save the people! Shall crime bring crime for ever, Strength aiding still the strong ? Is it Thy will, O Father, That man shall toil for wrong ? " No! " say Thy mountains,
Página 122 - Shire-cliffs' shade Will ramble where my boyhood played, Though Alfred dies. Then panting woods the breeze will feel. And bowers, as heretofore, Beneath their load of roses reel : But I through woodbined lanes shall steal No more, no more. Well, lay me by my brother's side, Where late we stood and wept ; For I was stricken when he died, — I felt the arrow as he sighed His last, and slept.
Página 47 - O'er subject towns, and farms, and villages, And gleaming streams, and woods, and waterfalls. Up, climb the oak-crown'd summit ! Hoober Stand And Keppel's Pillar gaze on Wentworth's halls, And misty lakes, that brighten and expand, And distant hills, that watch the western strand. Up ! trace God's foot-prints, where they paint the mould With heav'nly green, and hues that blush and glow Like angel's wings ; while skies of blue and gold Stoop to Miles Gordon on the mountain's brow.
Página 123 - No," thy skies; Man's clouded sun shall brightly rise, And songs be heard instead of sighs. God save the people! When wilt Thou save the people ? O God of mercy, when ? The people, Lord, the people, Not thrones and crowns, but men ! God save the people ; thine they are, Thy children, as thy angels fair ; Save them from bondage and despair ! God save the people ! VI.-A POET'S EPITAPH.
Página 49 - The greatest happiness of the greatest number, For the greatest length of time, I inscribe these CORN LAW RHYMES.
Página 222 - Say, shall we wander where, through warriors' graves, The infant Yewden, mountain-cradled, trills Her Doric notes? Or, where the Locksley raves Of broil and battle, and the rocks and caves Dream yet of ancient days ? Or, where the sky Darkens o'er Rivelin, the clear and cold, That throws his blue length, like a snake, from high?
Página 161 - If for my consolation Monseigneur would grant me, for the sake of God and the Most Blessed Trinity, that I could have news of my dear wife; were it only her name on a card, to show that she is alive! It were the greatest consolation I could receive; and I should forever bless the greatness of Monseigneur.
Página 62 - God of earth and heaven ! The humble heart is praying. How softly, in the pauses Of song, re-echoed wide, The cushat's coo, the linnet's lay, O'er rill and river glide ! With evil deeds of evil men The affrighted land is ringing ; But still, O Lord, the pious heart And soul-toned voice are singing ! Hush ! hush ! the preacher preacheth: "Woe to the oppressor, woe!

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