Thomas Campbell


Scottish Poet

Author Quotes

Love's wing moults when caged and captured, only free, he soars enraptured.

Our bugles sang truce - for the night-cloud had lowered, and the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky.

The scented wild-weeds and enamell'd moss.

'Twas sung, how they were lovely in their lives, and in their deaths had not divided been.

Without our hopes, without our fears, without the home that plighted love endears, without the smiles from plighted beauty won, oh! what were man? - a world without a sun.

Melt and dispel, ye spectre-doubts, that roll Cimmerian darkness o'er the parting soul!

Our land, the first garden of liberty's tree-- It has been, and shall be, the land of the free.

The sentinel stars set their watch in the sky.

United States, your banner wears Two emblems--one of fame; Alas! the other that it bears Reminds us of your shame. Your banner's constellation types White freedom with its stars, But what's the meaning of the stripes? They mean your negroes' scars.

Without the smile from partial beauty won, Oh what were man?—a world without a sun.

Men of England! who inherit rights that cost your sires their blood.

Out spoke the victor then, as he hail'd them o'er the wave, ye are brothers! ye are men! And we conquer but to save; so peace instead of death let us bring; but yield, proud foe, let us bring; with the crews, at England's feet, and make submission meet to our King.

The soul of conversation is sympathy

Victory has a hundred fathers, but defeat is an orphan.

Ye are brothers, ye are men, and we conquer but to save.

Mother of dead dogs.

Poor child of danger, nursling of the storm, sad are the woes that wreck thy manly form! Rocks, waves, and winds, the shattered bark delay, thy heart is sad, thy home is far away.

The stormy music of the drum.

We don't know what we have here. There might be something.

Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you 'tis true: yet wildings of nature, I dote upon you, for ye waft me to summers of old, when the earth teem'd around me with fairy delight, and when daisies and buttercups gladden'd my sight, like treasures of silver and gold.

In the human breast two master-passions cannot coexist.

My love lies bleeding.

Sorrow returned with the dawning of morn, and the voice in my dreaming ear melted away.

The waters wild went o'er his child, and he was left lamenting.

We had him stopped when he left the house... Then we went to the home.

Author Picture
First Name
Last Name
Birth Date
Death Date

Scottish Poet