Thomas Campbell Quotes

There shall he love when genial morn appears,
Like pensive Beauty smiling in her tears.

Ye are brothers! ye are men!
And we conquer but to save.

To-morrow let us do or die.

Melt and dispel, ye spectre-doubts, that roll
Cimmerian darkness o'er the parting soul!

The meteor flag of England
Shall yet terrific burn,
Till danger's troubled night depart,
And the star of peace return.

Oh leave this barren spot to me!
Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree!

Thus, while Elijah's burning wheels prepare, From Carmel's height, to sweep the fields of air, The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began, Dropt on the world — a sacred gift to man.

Can all that optics teach, unfold Thy form to please me so, As when I dreamt of gems and gold Hid in thy radiant bow? When Science from Creation's face Enchantment's veil withdraws, What lovely visions yield their place To cold material laws! And yet, fair bow, no fabling dreams, But words of the Most High, Have told why first thy robe of beams Was woven in the sky.

Absence! is not the soul torn by it From more than light, or life, or breath? 'Tis Lethe's gloom, but not its quiet,— The pain without the peace of death!

In life's morning march, when my bosom was young.

The combat deepens. On, ye brave,
Who rush to glory or the grave!
Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave,
And charge with all thy chivalry!

How glorious is thy girdle cast O'er mountain, tower, and town, Or mirror'd in the ocean vast, A thousand fathoms down! As fresh in yon horizon dark, As young thy beauties seem, As when the eagle from the ark First sported in thy beam. For, faithful to its sacred page, Heaven still rebuilds thy span, Nor lets the type grow pale with age That first spoke peace to man.

Cease, every joy, to glimmer on my mind,
But leave, oh! leave the light of Hope behind!
What though my wingèd hours of bliss have been
Like angels visits, few and far between.

O Love! in such a wilderness as this.

Again to the battle, Achaians!
Our hearts bid the tyrants defiance!
Our land, the first garden of Liberty's tree,
It has been, and shall yet be, the land of the free.