Maxioms by Thomas Campbell
Britannia needs no bulwarks
No towers along the steep;
Her march is o'er the mountain wave,
read more
Britannia needs no bulwarks
No towers along the steep;
Her march is o'er the mountain wave,
Her home is on the deep.
Cease, every joy, to glimmer in my mind,
But leave,--oh! leave the light of Hope behind!
Cease, every joy, to glimmer in my mind,
But leave,--oh! leave the light of Hope behind!
'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.
'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,
And coming events cast their shadows before.
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.
