The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore, Including Melodies, Ballads, EtcJ. Crissy, 1835 - 419 страница |
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Страница iv
... Tell me how to punish thee . ib . LXXII . With twenty chords my lyre is hurg ib . XI . Tell me , gentle youth , I pray thee ib . LXXIII . Fare thee well , perfidious maid ib XII . They tell how Atys , wild with love ib . LXXIV . I bloom ...
... Tell me how to punish thee . ib . LXXII . With twenty chords my lyre is hurg ib . XI . Tell me , gentle youth , I pray thee ib . LXXIII . Fare thee well , perfidious maid ib XII . They tell how Atys , wild with love ib . LXXIV . I bloom ...
Страница v
... tell me where the maid is found Sweetest love ! I'll not forget thee If I swear by that eye Fly from the world , O Bessy ! to me Think on that look of humid ray A captive thus to thee A Fragment Where is the nymph When time who steals ...
... tell me where the maid is found Sweetest love ! I'll not forget thee If I swear by that eye Fly from the world , O Bessy ! to me Think on that look of humid ray A captive thus to thee A Fragment Where is the nymph When time who steals ...
Страница vi
... tell me not , dear , that the goblet drowns ib . How sweet the answer Echo makes ib . Avenging and bright fell the swift sword of Oh , banquet not in those shining bowers ib . Erin ib . The dawning of morn , the daylight's sinking 346 ...
... tell me not , dear , that the goblet drowns ib . How sweet the answer Echo makes ib . Avenging and bright fell the swift sword of Oh , banquet not in those shining bowers ib . Erin ib . The dawning of morn , the daylight's sinking 346 ...
Страница viii
... Tell her ! oh tell her ib . old dame ib . Nights of Music ib . Factotum Ned ib Our first young love Country - dance and Quadrille . 399 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS . To those we love we've drank to - night A Melologue upon national music 381 ...
... Tell her ! oh tell her ib . old dame ib . Nights of Music ib . Factotum Ned ib Our first young love Country - dance and Quadrille . 399 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS . To those we love we've drank to - night A Melologue upon national music 381 ...
Страница 46
... tell mankind the tale . Or looking pale to Heaven with glassy glare , So shall my votaries , wheresoe'er they rave , As if they sought but saw no mercy there ; Proclaim that Heav'n took back the Saint it gave ;As if they felt , though ...
... tell mankind the tale . Or looking pale to Heaven with glassy glare , So shall my votaries , wheresoe'er they rave , As if they sought but saw no mercy there ; Proclaim that Heav'n took back the Saint it gave ;As if they felt , though ...
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Anacreon ancient angels bard beam beautiful beneath Bermuda blest bliss bloom blush bowers breath bright brow burning Caliph called Cashmere Catullus charm cheek dark dear death delight divine dream e'en earth Epicurus epigram eyes FADLADEEN fair falchion fancy feel FERAMORZ fire flame flowers Ghebers glory glow gold grace Haram hath heart heaven holy hour hung hyæna Khorassan King kiss Lalla Rookh light lips live look look'd Lord Lord Byron lov'd lover lute lyre maid Moore morning mountain Naptha ne'er never night nymph o'er Persian Plato Plutarch poem poet pure rose round says seem'd shade shed shine sigh sleep smile song soul sparkling spirit star sweet tears tell thee thine THOMAS MOORE thou thought throne Transoxiania turn'd Twas veil warm wave weep wild wings wonder young youth
Популарни одломци
Страница 321 - BELIEVE me, if all those endearing young charms, Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms, Like fairy-gifts fading away, Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart Would entwine itself verdantly still.
Страница 330 - She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps And lovers around her are sighing : But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying.
Страница 352 - When I remember all The friends so linked together, I've seen around me fall Like leaves in wintry weather; I feel like one Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed...
Страница 362 - SOUND the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea ! Jehovah has triurnph'd, — his people are free. Sing — for the pride of the tyrant is broken, His chariots, his horsemen, all splendid and brave — • How vain was their boasting ! — The Lord hath but spoken, And chariots and horsemen are sunk in the wave. Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea ! Jehovah has triumph'd, — his people are free.
Страница 333 - 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. So soon may...
Страница 362 - 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 330 - Every note which he loved awaking — Ah ! little they think, who delight in her strains, How the heart of the minstrel is breaking ! He had lived for his love — for his country he died, They were all that to life had entwined him — Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, Nor long will his love stay behind him...
Страница 361 - When hastening fondly home, Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam. But high she shoots through air and light, Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way.
Страница 338 - Ne'er tell me of glories, serenely adorning The close of our day, the calm eve of our night ; — Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of Morning, Her clouds and her tears are worth Evening's best light Oh, who would not welcome that moment's returning.
Страница 334 - Like the vase, in which roses have once been distilled — You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will. But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.