Lalla RookhPhillips, Sampson, 1854 - 230 страница |
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Страница 4
... hours , which were devoted neither to the pillow nor the palankeen . There was a little Persian slave who sung sweetly to the Vina , and who , now and then , lulled the Princess to sleep with the ancient ditties of her country , about ...
... hours , which were devoted neither to the pillow nor the palankeen . There was a little Persian slave who sung sweetly to the Vina , and who , now and then , lulled the Princess to sleep with the ancient ditties of her country , about ...
Страница 8
... hour ? Not such the pageant now , though not less proud ; Yon warrior youth , advancing from the crowd , With silver bow , with belt of broider'd crape , And fur - bound bonnet of Bucharian shape , 38 So fiercely beautiful in form and ...
... hour ? Not such the pageant now , though not less proud ; Yon warrior youth , advancing from the crowd , With silver bow , with belt of broider'd crape , And fur - bound bonnet of Bucharian shape , 38 So fiercely beautiful in form and ...
Страница 12
... hour ; When thou didst study him till every tone And gesture and dear look became thy own , - Thy voice like his , the changes of his face In thine reflected with still lovelier grace , Like echo , sending back sweet music , fraught ...
... hour ; When thou didst study him till every tone And gesture and dear look became thy own , - Thy voice like his , the changes of his face In thine reflected with still lovelier grace , Like echo , sending back sweet music , fraught ...
Страница 16
... hour , entirely , wildly given To him and she believ'd , lost maid ! - to heaven ; Her brain , her heart , her passions all inflam'd , How proud she stood , when in full Haram nam'd The Priestess of the Faith ! -how flash'd her eyes ...
... hour , entirely , wildly given To him and she believ'd , lost maid ! - to heaven ; Her brain , her heart , her passions all inflam'd , How proud she stood , when in full Haram nam'd The Priestess of the Faith ! -how flash'd her eyes ...
Страница 17
... Hours of delight and peace , long left behind , With that dear form came rushing o'er her mind ; But oh ! to think how deep her soul had gone In shame and falsehood since those moments shone And , then , her oath -- there madness lay ...
... Hours of delight and peace , long left behind , With that dear form came rushing o'er her mind ; But oh ! to think how deep her soul had gone In shame and falsehood since those moments shone And , then , her oath -- there madness lay ...
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angels Arab AZIM beautiful beneath bird blest bliss blood bowers breath breath'd bright brow Bucharia burning Caliph called Cashmere charm cheek dark dead dear death deep Delhi delight dread dream e'er earth ev'n eyes FADLADEEN falchion FERAMORZ FERDOSI FERISHTA fire flame flowers gardens GAZNA Genii Ghebers glory gold golden Greek fire HAFED Haram hath heart heaven holy hour hung hyæna Indian IRAN IRAN's Khorassan King Koran La Péri Lahore Lake LALLA ROOKH light lips live look look'd lov'd lover lute maid minaret MOKANNA moonlight Moslem mountain Naphtha never night NOURMAHAL o'er pass'd PERI Persian poet Princess pure round seem'd shining Shiraz shone sigh skies slave sleep smile soul sound sparkling spirit star stood sunk sweet sword Tahmuras tears thee thine thou thought throne Tibet tree turn'd veil voice warm warrior wave wild wings wretch young youth ZELICA
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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.
Страница 36 - 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.