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appear bark beam bear beauty beneath billows blast blue brave break breast breath breeze bright calm clouds course crew danger dark dead death deck deep distant dread earth fair faith fear floating foam friends gale gaze glory grave hand hath hear heard heart heaven hope hour keep land leave light living lone look mariner mast meet mighty morning never night o'er ocean pain pale passed peace prayer raging rest rise roar rock roll round sail sailor scene seemed ship shore side sinks sleep smile soul sound spirit star storm strong surge sweep sweet swell tears tell tempest thee things thou thoughts tide turns vessel voice wandering watch waters waves weep wide wild wind wings wreck
Page xxiii - Dark-heaving ; — boundless, endless, and sublime — The image of Eternity — the throne Of the Invisible ; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Page 106 - Hark ! hark ! to God the chorus breaks From every host, from every gem ; But one alone the Saviour speaks, It is the Star of Bethlehem.
Page 177 - Toll for the brave ! The brave that are no more ! All sunk beneath the wave, Fast by their native shore ! Eight hundred of the brave, Whose courage well was tried, Had made the vessel heel, And laid her on her side. A land breeze shook the shrouds, And she was overset ; Down went the Royal George, With all her crew complete.
Page 146 - How beautiful she is] How fair She lies within those arms, that press Her form with many a soft caress Of tenderness and watchful care!
Page 116 - Down sunk the bell with a gurgling sound, The bubbles rose and burst around ; Quoth Sir Ralph, "The next who comes to the Rock Won't bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok.
Page 70 - As we pac'd along Upon tHe giddy footing of the hatches, Methought, that Gloster stumbled; and, in falling, Struck me, that thought to stay him, over-board, Into the tumbling billows of the main.
Page 117 - On the deck the Rover takes his stand; So dark it is, they see no land. Quoth Sir Ralph, "It will be lighter soon, For there is the dawn of the rising Moon.
Page 145 - The ocean old, Centuries old, Strong as youth, and as uncontrolled, Paces restless to and fro, Up and down the sands of gold. His beating heart is not at rest; And far and wide, With ceaseless flow, His beard of snow Heaves with the heaving of his breast.