Poems by Thomas Campbell

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Excerpt from "Gertrude Of Wyoming"
'Tis not the loss of love's assurance,
The ordeal's fatal trumpet sounded,
Of Nelson and the North
Hadst thou a genius on thy peak,
There came to the beach a poor Exile of Erin,
How delicious is the winning
O, heard ye yon pibroch sound sad in the gale,
On Linden, when the sun was low,
At summer eve, when heaven's aerial bow
Unfading Hope! when life's last embers burn
In the deep blue of eve,
At the silence of twilight's contemplative hour,
Wizard. - Lochiel.
A chieftain, to the Highlands bound,
Hark! from the battlements of yonder tower
Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps,
Soul of the Poet! wheresoe'er,
When first the fiery-mantled sun
Men of England! who inherit
Star that bringest home the bee,
O leave this barren spot to me!
The brave Roland! the brave Roland!
Come, maids and matrons, to caress
When Scotland's great Regent, our warrior most dear,
All worldly shapes shall melt in gloom,
Never wedding, ever wooing,
At summer eve, when Heaven's ethereal bow
The more we live, more brief appear
Our bugles sang truce; for the night-cloud had lowered,
Excerpt from "Gertrude Of Wyoming"
Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky
Ye Mariners of England