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angels appeared arms beautiful beneath bird bliss blood bowers breath bright brow called cast charm dark dead dear death deep delight dread dream earth ev'n eyes fair fall fear feel fire flame flowers gardens give glory gold golden half hand happy hath head heard heart heaven holy hope hour Indian King Lake LALLA land leaves light lips live look lost maid morn mountain never night o'er once pass Peri Persian poet pure rest rich rise rocks roses round seen shining side sigh slave sleep smile soul sound spirit star stood story supposed sweet sword tears thee thine thing thou thought thousand throne tree turn veil voice wandering warm wave wild wind wings young youth
Страница 85 - Now, upon SYRIA'S land of roses Softly the light of eve reposes, And, like a glory, the broad sun Hangs over sainted LEBANON ; Whose head in wintry grandeur towers, And whitens with eternal sleet, While summer, in a vale of flowers, Is sleeping rosy at his feet.
Страница 181 - For mine is the lay that lightly floats, And mine are the murmuring, dying notes, That fall as soft as snow on the sea, And melt in the heart as instantly ! And the passionate strain that, deeply going, Refines the bosom it trembles through, As the musk-wind, over the water blowing, Ruffles the wave, but sweetens it too...
Страница 78 - With life's elixir sparkling high — But gifts like these are not for the sky. Where was there ever a gem that shone Like the steps of Alla's wonderful Throne ? And the Drops of Life — oh ! what would they be In the boundless Deep of Eternity?
Страница 87 - mid the roses lay, She saw a wearied man dismount From his hot steed, and on the brink Of a small imaret's rustic fount Impatient fling him down to drink.
Страница 88 - And how felt he, the wretched man Reclining there — while memory ran O'er many a year of guilt and strife, Flew o'er the dark flood of his life , Nor found one sunny resting-place, Nor brought him back one branch of grace! "There was a time," he said, in mild, Heart-humbled tones — "thou blessed child!
Страница 84 - Who art my life itself? — No, no — When the stem dies, the leaf that grew Out of its heart must perish too! Then turn to me, my own love, turn, Before like thee I fade and burn; Cling to these yet cool lips, and share The last pure life that lingers there!
Страница 101 - Yet, fill'd with all youth's sweet desires, Mingling the meek and vestal fires Of other worlds with all the bliss, The fond, weak tenderness of this ! A soul, too, more than half divine, Where, through some shades of earthly feeling, Religion's soften'd glories shine, Like light through summer foliage stealing, Shedding a glow of such mild hue, So warm, and yet so shadowy too, As makes the very darkness there More beautiful than light elsewhere...
Страница 13 - Oh grief, beyond all other griefs, when fate First leaves the young heart lone and desolate In the wide world, without that only tie For which it loved to live or feared to die...
Страница 188 - Then fly with me, — if thou hast known No other flame, nor falsely thrown 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.