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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.
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
Peace
Burn
Night
Till
Meteor
Star
Meteors
England
Depart
Danger
Troubled
Return
Flag
Shall
Terrific
Stars
Flags
More quotes by Thomas Campbell
Never wedding, ever wooing, Still a lovelorn heart pursuing, Read you not the wrong you're doing In my cheek's pale hue? All my life with sorrow strewing Wed or cease to woo.
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The smaller your reality, the more convinced you are that you know everything.
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Who hail thee, Man! the pilgrim of the day, spouse of the worm, and brother of the clay.
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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.
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One moment may with bliss repay Unnumbered hours of pain.
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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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The patriot's blood is the seed of Freedom's tree.
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Tomorrow let us do or die!
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For Beauty's tears are lovelier than her smile.
Thomas Campbell
The combat deepens. On, ye brave, Who rush to glory or the grave! Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave, And charge with all thy chivalry!
Thomas Campbell
The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.
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The popularity of that baby-faced boy, who possessed not even the elements of a good actor, was a hallucination in the public mind, and a disgrace to our theatrical history.
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Our land, the first garden of liberty's tree-- It has been, and shall be, the land of the free.
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What though my winged hours of bliss have been, Like angel visits, few and far between.
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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.
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On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly.
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He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.
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O star-eyed Science, hast thou wander'd there, To waft us home the message of despair?
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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.
Thomas Campbell
What millions died that Caesar might be great!
Thomas Campbell