Lines to Be Sung at the Meeting of the Yale College Association of Alumni, August 17th, 1842 by James Gates Percival (9781150112928)
James Gates Percival Release Date: 16 December 2009 Format: Paperback Pages: 238 Publisher: General Books ISBN: 9781150112928 ISBN-10: 1150112921
General Books publication date: 2009 Original publication date: 1823 Original Publisher: s.n. Description: Printed in two columns divided by curvilinear line. Notes: This is a black and white OCR reprint of the original. It has no illustrations and there may be typos or missing text. When you buy the General Books edition of this book you get free trial access to Million-Books.com where you can select from more than a million books for free. Excerpt: THE SUICIDE. T WAS where a granite cliff high-beetling towered Above the billows of the western main, Deep in a grot, by sable yews imbowered, A youth retired to ponder and complain. T was near the night-fall of a winter's day, The sun was hid in clouds of dunnest gloom; Before the north wind rose the whitening spray, And the loud breakers roared the sailor's doom. Dark, sullen, gloomy as the scene around, The soul that harboured in that youthful breast; To him the wild roar was a soothing sound, The only one, could hush his woes to rest. His was a soul that once was warm and kind- -- That once could love with gentlest, purest flame; So mild, so lovely was bis infant mind, His cheek ne'er reddened with the blush of shame. But never could he brook the frown of pride -- This was the killing stroke that smote his heart; All other wounds of fortune he defied -- This -- this to him was death's envenomed dart. He felt himself too trood to crouch and bend Before the man whose onlv boast was birth; O1 he would sooner his own bosom rend, Than bow before the haughtiest lord of earth. There was a savage sternness in his breast; No half-way passion could his bosom move, Noue e'er bv him were scorned and then caressed; His was all gloomy hate, or glowing love. Those, whom he scorned, he passed unheeded by- He never lured a foe with artful wile, But when a friend or lover met his eye, Each word was sweetness, and each look a smile. He once could love, but Oh that...