Phrosyne A Grecian Tale |
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Author:
| Knight, Henry Gally |
ISBN: | 978-0-217-24744-3 |
Publication Date: | Feb 2012 |
Publisher: | General Books LLC
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Book Format: | Paperback |
List Price: | AUD $13.88 |
Book Description:
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Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: ALASHTAR: AN ARABIAN TALE. CANTO I. Children of Ishmael to realms confin'd Where sternly nature frowns throughout the year, Unfetter'd sands, that mount before the wind, Plains ever wild, and valleys ever drear, Where Spring's unwilling footsteps scarce appear; For you no harvests rise, no vintage grows,...
More DescriptionPurchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: ALASHTAR: AN ARABIAN TALE. CANTO I. Children of Ishmael to realms confin'd Where sternly nature frowns throughout the year, Unfetter'd sands, that mount before the wind, Plains ever wild, and valleys ever drear, Where Spring's unwilling footsteps scarce appear; For you no harvests rise, no vintage grows, No shadowy groves the sultry noon to cheer; Nor blooms the'painted pink or scented rose; But all around is waste, and desolate repose I Children of Isiimact, a rugged home By fate is yours; but, let the favour'd race, Through fertile meads and water'd vales who roam, Or flow'ry paths in groves of verdure trace, Declare if happiness depends on place. Can crystal rills, or waving woods supply Sweet solace to the wretched, or the base ? Alas bright scenes are lost on sorrow's eye, Careless of verdant shades, and streams that murmur by. As bounteously the dews of bliss descend s On the lone Desert, as on Tempe's vale t True joys are of the soulon mind depend, Nor influence own of scene, or veering gale, The sons of Greece tell sorrow's bitter tale Beside the rill, beneath the spreading tree; In citron groves the Grecian maids bewail; While speeds o'er sands the Arab blest and free, And loves his native homethe home of Liberty. Free as his winds he rovesand if his mind, Rude as the scene in which his breath he draws, Owns no subjection, no respect of kind, And bids defiance proud to social laws, His sterner virtues still extort applause Mankind his common foe, the foe of all He combats, sever'd from the social cause; But who so swift to hear the stranger's call ? Who for the suppliant guest to conquer or to fall F Fantastic Honour, still opinion's child, Of differing temper in each differing land...