Samuel Rogers Poems

Blue was the loch, the clouds were gone,
Ben-Lomond in his glory shone,
When, Luss, I left thee; when the breeze
Bore me from thy silver sands,
...

Whoe'er thou art, approach, and, with a sigh,
Mark where the small remains of Greatness lie.
There sleeps the dust of Him for ever gone;
...

And now farewell to Italy -- perhaps
For ever! Yet, methinks, I could not go,
I could not leave it, were it mine to say,
...

Jorasse was in his three-and-twentieth year;
Graceful and active as a stag just roused;
Gentle withal, and pleasant in his speech,
...

Now the grey granite, starting through the snow,
Discovered many a variegated moss
That to the pilgrim resting on his staff
...

They stand between the mountains and the sea;
Awful memorials, but of whom we know not!
...

They stand between the mountains and the sea;
Awful memorials, but of whom we know not!
The seaman, passing, gazes from the deck.
...

In the same hour the breath of life receiving,
They came together and were beautiful;
But, as they slumbered in their mother's lap,
...

He who sets sail from Naples, when the wind
Blows fragrance from Posilipo, may soon,
Crossing from side to side that beautiful lake,
...

Yes, 'tis the pulse of life! my fears were vain!
I wake, I breathe, and am myself again.
Still in this nether world; no seraph yet!
...