The Lord of the Isles.
Canto v. Stanza 18.
O many a shaft, at random sent,
Finds mark, the archer little meant!
And many a word at random spoken
May soothe, or wound, a heart that's broken!
Old Mortality.
Vol. ii. Chapter xxi.
Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!
To all the sensual world proclaim,
One crowded hour of glorious life
Is worth an age without a name.
Bob Roy.
Vol. i. Chapter ii.
O for the voice of that wild horn
On Fontarabian echoes borne.