The poetical works of Thomas Moore, with lifeHouston & Wright, 1866 - 490 страница |
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Страница viii
... sweet will . The romantic beauty , the fertility of soil , the temperature of the atmosphere , and the picturesque variety of the landscapes of the vale of Cashmere have been the immemorial themes of the eastern travellers . It is " the ...
... sweet will . The romantic beauty , the fertility of soil , the temperature of the atmosphere , and the picturesque variety of the landscapes of the vale of Cashmere have been the immemorial themes of the eastern travellers . It is " the ...
Страница xiii
... sweet ? " 159 Fragment of College Exercises- " Mark those proud , " 160 " Is there no call , " 160 Song " Mary , I believed thee true , " 22 29 161 On the Birth - day of Mrs- " Of all my happiest , " 161 To a Lady , with MS . Poems ...
... sweet ? " 159 Fragment of College Exercises- " Mark those proud , " 160 " Is there no call , " 160 Song " Mary , I believed thee true , " 22 29 161 On the Birth - day of Mrs- " Of all my happiest , " 161 To a Lady , with MS . Poems ...
Страница xv
... Sweet Moon , " Stanzas- " A beam of tranquillity smil'd , " To the Flying Fish- " When I have seen , " To Miss Moore- " In days , my Kate , when life , " 235 235 237 238 239 The Lake of the Dismal Swamp- " They made her , " 242 To the ...
... Sweet Moon , " Stanzas- " A beam of tranquillity smil'd , " To the Flying Fish- " When I have seen , " To Miss Moore- " In days , my Kate , when life , " 235 235 237 238 239 The Lake of the Dismal Swamp- " They made her , " 242 To the ...
Страница xx
... sweet to behold , when the billows are sleeping , " 399 CORRUPTION AND INTOLERANCE : — Preface , 400 • Corruption : an Epistle- " Boast on , my friend , " Intolerance : a Satire . Note , " 402 407 " " " Start not , my friend , " 409 ...
... sweet to behold , when the billows are sleeping , " 399 CORRUPTION AND INTOLERANCE : — Preface , 400 • Corruption : an Epistle- " Boast on , my friend , " Intolerance : a Satire . Note , " 402 407 " " " Start not , my friend , " 409 ...
Страница xxi
... sweet to think , that , where'er we rove , ' The Irish Peasant to his Mistress- " Through grief , " On Music " When thro ' life unblest we rove , " " It is not the tear at this moment shed , " Origin of the harp- " " Tis believ'd that ...
... sweet to think , that , where'er we rove , ' The Irish Peasant to his Mistress- " Through grief , " On Music " When thro ' life unblest we rove , " " It is not the tear at this moment shed , " Origin of the harp- " " Tis believ'd that ...
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Anacreon angel beam beautiful beneath bless blest bliss blood bloom bosom bowers breath breath'd breeze bright brow burning Cashmere charm cheek cup of Jamshid dark dear death Dismal Swamp divine dream e'er earth enchanted wreath ev'n eyes Fadladeen fair falchion fancy feel Feramorz fire flame flowers Ghebers glory glow gold Hafed Haram hath heart Heaven holy hour hung hyæna Iran Iran's lake Lalla Rookh light lips look look'd lov'd lover lute lyre maid moonlight morning mountain ne'er never night Nourmahal nymph o'er pass'd Peri Persian poet Polianthes tuberosa pure roses round seem'd shade shed shining sigh skies sleep smile song soul sparkling spirit star sweet sword Tahmuras tears tears of wine tell thee thine thou thought throne trembling turn'd Twas veil wandering warm wave weep wild wing wretch young youth
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Страница 403 - Twas that friends, the beloved of my bosom, were near, Who made every dear scene of enchantment more dear, And who felt how the best charms of nature improve, When we see them reflected from looks that we love. Sweet vale of Avoca ! how calm could I rest In thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best, Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease, And our hearts, like thy waters, Be mingled in peace.
Страница 434 - Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone ; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone ; No flower of her kindred, No rose-bud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, Or give sigh for sigh. I'll not leave thee, thou lone one ! To pine on the stem; Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep thou with them. Thus kindly I scatter Thy leaves o'er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead.
Страница 49 - Go, wing thy flight from star to star, From world to luminous world, as far As the universe spreads its flaming wall; Take all the pleasures of all the spheres, And multiply each through endless years — One minute of heaven is worth them all!
Страница 402 - THERE is not in the wide world a valley so sweet, As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet ; Oh ! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart. Yet it was not that Nature had shed o'er the scene, Her purest of crystal and brightest of green ; 'Twas not the soft magic of streamlet or hill ; Oh ! no — it was something more exquisite still.
Страница 383 - This world is all a fleeting show For man's illusion given ; The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, Deceitful shine, deceitful flow, — There's nothing true but Heaven...
Страница 23 - There's a bower of roses by BENDEMEER'S§ stream, And the nightingale sings round it all the day long ; In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream, To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song.
Страница 139 - For, oh, if there be an elysium on earth, It is this, it is this ! There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, When two, that are link'd in one heavenly tie, With heart never changing and brow never cold, Love on through all ills, and love on till they die ; One hour of a passion so sacred is worth Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss : And oh...
Страница 386 - And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand ; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances. And Miriam answered them, Sing ye to the LORD, for he hath triumphed gloriously ; the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea.
Страница 382 - Therefore, behold, the days come, saith the Lord, that it shall no more be called Tophet, nor the valley of the son of Hinnom, but the valley of Slaughter ; for they shall bury in Tophet, till there be no place.
Страница 409 - Neagh's bank as the fisherman strays, When the clear cold eve's declining, He sees the round towers of other days In the wave beneath him shining...