Thomas Campbell

What we might call, by way of Eminence, the Dismal Science.

What we might call, by way of Eminence, the Dismal Science.

For there no yew nor cypress spread their glom
But roses blossom'd each rustic tomb.

For there no yew nor cypress spread their glom
But roses blossom'd each rustic tomb.

Again to the battle, Achaians!
Our hearts bid the tyrants defiance!
Our land, the first garden of read more

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.

What's hallowed ground? Has earth a clod
Its Maker mean'd not should be trod
By man, the read more

What's hallowed ground? Has earth a clod
Its Maker mean'd not should be trod
By man, the image of his God,
Erect and free,
Unscourged by Superstition's rod.

There was silence deep as death;
And the boldest held his breath,
For a time.

There was silence deep as death;
And the boldest held his breath,
For a time.