The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore: With the Life of the AuthorP.F. Collier, 1892 - 552 страница |
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Страница iii
... Song of Fionnuala , 47 • The Fortune - teller , 14 As a Beam o'er the Face of the Waters may glow , 48 The Wandering Bard , 15 It is not the tear at this moment shed , 49 · • Drink of this Cup , . 17 Come o'er the Sea ,. 49 • Echo , 18 ...
... Song of Fionnuala , 47 • The Fortune - teller , 14 As a Beam o'er the Face of the Waters may glow , 48 The Wandering Bard , 15 It is not the tear at this moment shed , 49 · • Drink of this Cup , . 17 Come o'er the Sea ,. 49 • Echo , 18 ...
Страница iv
... Song , Wreathe the Bowl , . The Song of O'Ruark , Prince of Breffni , Weep on , weep on , 69 . 70 71 73 · 74 Ill Omens , I saw thy Form in youthfal Prime , Oh , the Sight entrancing , Sing - sing - Music was given ,. I wish I was by ...
... Song , Wreathe the Bowl , . The Song of O'Ruark , Prince of Breffni , Weep on , weep on , 69 . 70 71 73 · 74 Ill Omens , I saw thy Form in youthfal Prime , Oh , the Sight entrancing , Sing - sing - Music was given ,. I wish I was by ...
Страница v
... Song , 339 The Mecting of the Ships , The Watchman . A Trio , 340 · The Dream of Home , Where is the Heart , 341 Say , what shall we dance ? · The Exile , 342 · Hip , hip , hurra ! Sovereign Woman . A Ballad ,. 342 Wake thee , my dear ...
... Song , 339 The Mecting of the Ships , The Watchman . A Trio , 340 · The Dream of Home , Where is the Heart , 341 Say , what shall we dance ? · The Exile , 342 · Hip , hip , hurra ! Sovereign Woman . A Ballad ,. 342 Wake thee , my dear ...
Страница vi
... Song of the Olden Time , · 354 The Boy of the Alps , · 355 · • Merrily every bosom boundeth . The Tyrolese Song 356 of Liberty ,. 357 Here , take my Heart , 357 • · To - day , dearest ! is ours , Come , play me that simple air again . A ...
... Song of the Olden Time , · 354 The Boy of the Alps , · 355 · • Merrily every bosom boundeth . The Tyrolese Song 356 of Liberty ,. 357 Here , take my Heart , 357 • · To - day , dearest ! is ours , Come , play me that simple air again . A ...
Страница vii
... Song . Written aboard the Boston 446 · • • A Canadian Boat Song . Written on the River St. Lawrence , • 472 449 450 • 453 • 455 Frigate , 28th April , • To the Fire - fly , 457 459 • 474 To the Lady Charlotte Rawdon . From the banks of ...
... Song . Written aboard the Boston 446 · • • A Canadian Boat Song . Written on the River St. Lawrence , • 472 449 450 • 453 • 455 Frigate , 28th April , • To the Fire - fly , 457 459 • 474 To the Lady Charlotte Rawdon . From the banks of ...
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Anacreon ARRANMORE bard beam beautiful beneath blest bliss bloom bow'rs bower breath bright bright eyes brow Cashmere charm cheek clouds cold dark dear death deep dream e'er earth Erin ev'n ev'ry eyes fade FADLADEEN fair falchion farewell feel flame flowers gleam glory glow gone Haram harp hath heart heaven hope hour hung isle LALLA LALLA ROOKH light lips look look'd Lord Moira lov'd Love's lover lute maid moonlight Moore morning mountain ne'er never night nymphs o'er once pass'd pure rose round seem'd shade shed shine shone shore sigh sing sleep Sleeping in light smile song sorrow soul sound sparkling spirit Sprite star sunny sweet sword Tahmuras tears thee There's thine thou art Thou'lt thought tow'rds turn'd Twas Twill voice wake warm wave weep wild wings young youth
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Страница 232 - Go, wing thy flight from star to star, From world to luminous world, as far As the universe spreads its flaming wall; Take all the pleasures of all the spheres, And multiply each through endless years — One minute of heaven is worth them all...
Страница 80 - THE harp that once through Tara's halls, The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts, that once beat high for praise* Now feel that pulse no more.
Страница 110 - Music ! oh, how faint, how weak, Language fades before thy spell ! Why should Feeling ever speak, When thou canst breathe her soul so well ? Friendship's balmy words may feign. Love's are even more false than they ; Oh ! 'tis only Music's strain Can sweetly soothe, and not betray!
Страница 313 - WHO has not heard of the Vale of Cashmere, With its roses the brightest that earth ever gave, Its temples, and grottos, and fountains as clear As the love-lighted eyes that hang over their wave...
Страница 30 - Yes, weep, and however my foes may condemn, Thy tears shall efface their decree ; For Heaven can witness, though guilty to them, I have been but too faithful to thee ! With thee were the dreams of my earliest love; Every thought of my reason was thine : In my last humble prayer to the Spirit above, Thy name shall be mingled with mine ! Oh ! blest are the lovers and friends who shall live The days of thy glory to see ; But the next dearest blessing that Heaven can give Is the pride of thus dying for...
Страница 12 - 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 loved ne'er...
Страница 319 - A breath, a touch like this hath shaken. And ruder words will soon rush in To spread the breach that words begin ; And eyes forget the gentle ray They wore in courtship's smiling day ; And voices lose the tone that shed A tenderness round all they said ; Till fast declining one by one, The sweetnesses of love are gone...
Страница 472 - Oh! sweetly we'll rest our weary oar. Blow, breezes, blow, the stream runs fast, The Rapids are near and the daylight's past.
Страница 21 - 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 201 - And a dew was distill'd from their flowers, that gave All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone. Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, \ ".> An essence that breathes of it many a year...