The poetical works of Thomas MooreA. and W. Galignani, 1827 - 595 страница |
Из књиге
Резултати 1-5 од 100
Страница vi
... kind and warm - hearted man- ner in which the toast has been proposed by my excellent friend and fellow - countryman . have my name coupled with that of Mr Camp- bell , I feel to be no ordinary distinction . If a critical knowledge of ...
... kind and warm - hearted man- ner in which the toast has been proposed by my excellent friend and fellow - countryman . have my name coupled with that of Mr Camp- bell , I feel to be no ordinary distinction . If a critical knowledge of ...
Страница ix
... kind as private details of illustrious individuals , is our opinion that Mr Moore's conduct in the and , most of all , what may be called their confes- affair has been too hastily condemned . One duty , sions : and if those individuals ...
... kind as private details of illustrious individuals , is our opinion that Mr Moore's conduct in the and , most of all , what may be called their confes- affair has been too hastily condemned . One duty , sions : and if those individuals ...
Страница xvi
... kind of primitive music , peculiar to itself ; consisting of short and simple tunes or melodies , which at the same time that they please cultivated and scien- tific ears , are the object of passionate and almost exclusive attainment by ...
... kind of primitive music , peculiar to itself ; consisting of short and simple tunes or melodies , which at the same time that they please cultivated and scien- tific ears , are the object of passionate and almost exclusive attainment by ...
Страница xviii
... kind of people called Bardes , which are table , the minstrels at a middle one , and the ser- to them instead of poets , whose profession is to vants lower still . The royal guests looked at set forth the praises or dispraises of men in ...
... kind of people called Bardes , which are table , the minstrels at a middle one , and the ser- to them instead of poets , whose profession is to vants lower still . The royal guests looked at set forth the praises or dispraises of men in ...
Страница xxii
... kind of fastidious extravagance in Mr Moore's serious poetry . Each thing must be fine , soft , ex- quisite in itself , for it is never set off by reflec- tion or contrast . It glitters to the sense through the atmosphere of ...
... kind of fastidious extravagance in Mr Moore's serious poetry . Each thing must be fine , soft , ex- quisite in itself , for it is never set off by reflec- tion or contrast . It glitters to the sense through the atmosphere of ...
Друга издања - Прикажи све
Чести термини и фразе
AIR-The Anacreon angels bard beam beautiful beneath bless'd blest bliss bloom blush bosom bowers breath bright brow burning called Catullus charm Cicero cold creon dark dear death divine dream e'er earth Epicurus epigram Erin eyes fair fancy feel fire flame flowers fond friends glory glow Haram harp hath heart heaven hope hour Irish King kiss Lalla Rookh light lips live look look'd Lord Lord Byron Love's lover lute lyre maid morning ne'er never night nymph o'er once OVID Persian Plato Plutarch poem poet pure rose round Sappho seem'd shade shed shine sigh sleep smile song sorrow soul sparkling spirit Sprite star steal sweet tears tell thee there's thine THOMAS MOORE thou thought turn'd warm wave weep wild wings words young youth και
Популарни одломци
Страница 328 - 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 301 - Though all the world betrays thee, One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard, One faithful harp shall praise thee ! " The minstrel fell ! — but the foeman's chain Could not bring his proud soul under ; The harp he lov-ed ne'er spoke again, For he tore its chords asunder ; And said, " No chains shall sully thee, Thou soul of love and bravery ! Thy songs were made for the pure and free, They shall never sound in slavery...
Страница 318 - Those joyous hours are passed away ; And many a heart, that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. And so 'twill be when I am gone ; That tuneful peal will still ring on, While other bards shall walk these dells, And sing your praise, sweet evening bells ! Moore.
Страница 303 - Then come o'er the sea, Maiden, with me, Come wherever the wild wind blows ; Seasons may roll, But the true soul Burns the same, where'er it goes. "Was not the Sea Made for the Free, Land for courts and chains alone ? Here we are slaves, But, on the waves, Love and liberty's all our own.
Страница 328 - But Thou wilt heal that broken heart, Which, like the plants that throw Their fragrance from the wounded part, Breathes sweetness out of woe.
Страница 302 - FAREWELL !— but whenever you welcome the hour That awakens the night-song of mirth in your bower, Then think of the friend who once welcomed it too, And forgot his own griefs to be happy with you.
Страница 12 - 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 58 - A gem away, that thou hadst sworn Should ever in thy heart be worn. Come, if the love thou hast for me Is pure and fresh as mine for thee, — Fresh as the fountain under ground When first 'tis by the lapwing found.
Страница 327 - When night, with wings of starry gloom, O'ershadows all the earth and skies, Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume Is sparkling with unnumbered eyes, That sacred gloom, those fires divine, So grand, so countless. Lord! are thine.
Страница 294 - O'er whom a wond'ring world shall weep ! AFTER THE BATTLE. NIGHT clos'd around the conqueror's way, And lightnings show'd the distant hill, Where those who lost that dreadful day, Stood few and faint, but fearless still. The soldier's hope, the patriot's zeal, For ever dimm'd, for ever crost — Oh ! who shall say what heroes feel, When all but life and honour's lost...