The poetical works of Thomas MooreA. and W. Galignani, 1827 - 595 страница |
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Страница ii
... Once in each revolving year . 125 Fanny , my love , we ne'er were sages ib . Song ib . From the Greek 126 On a beautiful East - Indian ib . Το ib . At night ii . To ib XXVI . Thy harp may sing of Troy's alarms XXVII . We read the flying ...
... Once in each revolving year . 125 Fanny , my love , we ne'er were sages ib . Song ib . From the Greek 126 On a beautiful East - Indian ib . Το ib . At night ii . To ib XXVI . Thy harp may sing of Troy's alarms XXVII . We read the flying ...
Страница iii
... once through Tara's halls ib . Song ib . Fly not yet , ' t is just the hour ib . The Surprise . ib . To a sleeping maid ib . Oh ! think not my spirits are always as light Though the last glimpse of Erin with sorrow ib . To Phillis . ib ...
... once through Tara's halls ib . Song ib . Fly not yet , ' t is just the hour ib . The Surprise . ib . To a sleeping maid ib . Oh ! think not my spirits are always as light Though the last glimpse of Erin with sorrow ib . To Phillis . ib ...
Страница vi
... once all its feeling into a fulness of fruit , which it would take years of ordinary ri- pening to produce ; and there is not a man of you who has pledged the cup of fellowship this night , of whom I would not claim the privilege of ...
... once all its feeling into a fulness of fruit , which it would take years of ordinary ri- pening to produce ; and there is not a man of you who has pledged the cup of fellowship this night , of whom I would not claim the privilege of ...
Страница vi
... once more on the chalky cliffs , This is my own , my native land , and I have seen no- thing that can , in the remotest degree , compare with it .'- Gentlemen , I could not help , -in that fulness of heart , which they alone can feel to ...
... once more on the chalky cliffs , This is my own , my native land , and I have seen no- thing that can , in the remotest degree , compare with it .'- Gentlemen , I could not help , -in that fulness of heart , which they alone can feel to ...
Страница viii
... once ascertained , the whole interest of society seemed centered in his Memoirs . Curiosity swallowed up grief ; and people , becoming wearied by the comments of other writers on him who was no more , turned with unexampled anxiety to ...
... once ascertained , the whole interest of society seemed centered in his Memoirs . Curiosity swallowed up grief ; and people , becoming wearied by the comments of other writers on him who was no more , turned with unexampled anxiety to ...
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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
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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...