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On the green banks of Shannon, when Sheelah was nigh, No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I, No harp like my own could so cheerily play, And wherever I went was my poor dog Tray.
Thomas Campbell
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Thomas Campbell
Age: 66 †
Born: 1777
Born: July 27
Died: 1844
Died: June 15
Journalist
Musicologist
Poet
Writer
Glasgow
Scotland
Poor
Harps
Happiness
Lad
Cheerily
Irish
Shannon
Happy
Banks
Blithe
Play
Wherever
Tray
Like
Dog
Trays
Green
Nigh
Went
Harp
More quotes by Thomas Campbell
For Beauty's tears are lovelier than her smile.
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The patriot's blood is the seed of Freedom's tree.
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Oh, how hard it is to find The one just suited to our mind!
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Fundamental assumptions in general and scientific assumptions in particular are so hard to overturn because they are based on belief. Beliefs are so hard to overcome because they are irrational and therefore do not yield to logical argument.
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Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky When storms prepare to part, I ask not proud Philosophy To teach me what thou art.
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What though my winged hours of bliss have been, Like angel visits, few and far between.
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He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.
Thomas Campbell
Ye mariners of England! That guard our native seas Whose flag has braved a thousand years, The battle and the breeze!
Thomas Campbell
O star-eyed Science, hast thou wander'd there, To waft us home the message of despair?
Thomas Campbell
The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.
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I'll meet the raging of the skies, but not an angry father.
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One moment may with bliss repay Unnumbered hours of pain.
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The only thing that is fundamental (real) is consciousness itself all else is virtual- i.e., a result of an exchange of information within consciousness.
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Better be courted and jilted Than never be courted at all.
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The meteor flag of England Shall yet terrific burn, Till danger's troubled night depart, And the star of peace return.
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Beauty's witching sway is now to me a star that's fallen-a dream that's passed away.
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The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began, Dropt on the world--a sacred gift to man.
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Love! the surviving gift of Heaven, The choicest sweet of Paradise, In life's else bitter cup distilled.
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Tomorrow let us do or die!
Thomas Campbell
An original something, dear maid, you would wish me to write but how shall I begin? For I'm sure I have not original in me, Excepting Original Sin.
Thomas Campbell