Come, see the Dolphin’s anchor forged; ’t is at a white heat now:
The bellows ceased, the flames decreased; though on the forge’s brow
The little flames still fitfully play through the sable mound:
And fitfully you still may see the grim smiths ranking round,
All...
Samuel Ferguson
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The Shades of eve had crossed the glen
That frowns o’er infant Avonmore,
When, nigh Loch Dan, two weary men,
We stopped before a cottage door.“God save all here,” my comrade cries,
And rattles on the raised latch-pin;
“God save you kindly...