Literature, Art and Song: Moore's Melodies and American PoemsInternational publishing Company, 1872 - 495 strán (strany) |
Vyhľadávanie v obsahu knihy
Výsledky 1 - 5 z 33.
Strana 44
... scene Her purest of crystal and brightest of green ; ' Twas not her soft magic of streamlet or hill , Oh ! no - it was something more exquisite still . ' Twas that friends , the belov'd of my bosom , were near , Who made every dear scene ...
... scene Her purest of crystal and brightest of green ; ' Twas not her soft magic of streamlet or hill , Oh ! no - it was something more exquisite still . ' Twas that friends , the belov'd of my bosom , were near , Who made every dear scene ...
Strana 111
... scenes of delight , thou wilt come to me there , And tell me our love is remember'd , even in the sky . Then I sing the wild song ' t was once such pleasure to hear ! When our voices commingling breath'd , like one , on the ear ; And ...
... scenes of delight , thou wilt come to me there , And tell me our love is remember'd , even in the sky . Then I sing the wild song ' t was once such pleasure to hear ! When our voices commingling breath'd , like one , on the ear ; And ...
Strana 166
... scenes like this , With some we've left behind us ! As trav'llers oft look back at eve , When eastward darkly going , To gaze upon that light they leave Still faint behind them glowing , - So , when the close of pleasure's day To gloom ...
... scenes like this , With some we've left behind us ! As trav'llers oft look back at eve , When eastward darkly going , To gaze upon that light they leave Still faint behind them glowing , - So , when the close of pleasure's day To gloom ...
Strana 184
... scenes more dark , More sad than those we leave behind . Each wave that passes seems to say , " Though death beneath our smile may be , " Less cold we are , less false than they , 66 Whose smiling wreck'd thy hopes and thee . " Sail on ...
... scenes more dark , More sad than those we leave behind . Each wave that passes seems to say , " Though death beneath our smile may be , " Less cold we are , less false than they , 66 Whose smiling wreck'd thy hopes and thee . " Sail on ...
Strana 194
... by which some headlong bark To th ' ocean hurries , resting never , Life's scenes go by me , bright or dark , I know not , heed not , hastening ever To thee , thee , only thee . I have not a joy but of thy bringing ,. 194.
... by which some headlong bark To th ' ocean hurries , resting never , Life's scenes go by me , bright or dark , I know not , heed not , hastening ever To thee , thee , only thee . I have not a joy but of thy bringing ,. 194.
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Časté výrazy a frázy
AMERICAN POEMS Arranmore bard battle of Clontarf beam beauty beneath Bermuda blest bliss bloom bosom bowers breath bright Burns chain charm cold DANIEL MACLISE dark dear Dismal Swamp dream earth Erin ev'n eyes fade fame fancy feel flowers friends gloomy glory grace grave Harp hath heart heaven hope hour hung Innisfail Ireland IRISH MELODIES isle Joseph Atkinson Lake lentando light lips look look'd Lord Byron lov'd Moore's morning ne'er never night NOTE o'er once POEMS RELATING RELATING TO AMERICA remember RICHES RICHES MOORE RICHES-CO RICHES-MOORE roam round rove sail seem'd shade shed shine shore sigh sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sparkle spirit Sprite star sung sweet sword tear tell thee there's thine THOMAS MOORE thou thought thousand guineas thro travellers love turn'd Twas warm wave weep wild wind wing young youth
Populárne pasáže
Strana 41 - 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...
Strana 108 - She sings the wild song of her dear native plains, Every note which he loved awaking — Ah '. little they think, who delight in her strains, How the heart of the minstrel is breaking...
Strana 44 - THERE is not in the wide world a valley so sweet As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet ; Oh ! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.
Strana 91 - DEAR Harp of my country ! in darkness I found thee, The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long, When proudly, my own Island Harp ! I unbound thee, And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song...
Strana 480 - That ev'n in thy mirth it will steal from thee still. Dear Harp of my Country ! farewell to thy numbers, This sweet wreath of song is the last we shall twine ! Go, sleep with the sunshine of Fame on thy slumbers, Till touch'd by some hand less unworthy than mine ; If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover, Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone ; I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over, And all the wild sweetness I wak'd was thy own.
Strana 92 - OH ! the days are gone, when Beauty bright My heart's chain wove ; When my dream of life from morn till night Was love, still love. New hope may bloom, And days may come Of milder, calmer beam, But there's nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream : No, there's nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream.
Strana 227 - Ne'er tell me of glories serenely adorning The close of our day, the calm eve of our night: — Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of Morning, Her clouds and her tears are worth Evening's best light.
Strana 193 - How sweet the answer Echo makes To Music at night When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes, And far away o'er lawns and lakes Goes answering light ! Yet Love hath echoes truer far And far more sweet Than e'er, beneath the moonlight's star, Of horn or lute or soft guitar The songs repeat. 'Tis when the sigh, — in youth sincere And only then, The sigh that's breathed for one to hear — Is by that one, that only Dear Breathed back again.
Strana 51 - WHEN he, who adores thee, has left but the name Of his fault and his sorrows behind, Oh ! say wilt thou weep, when they darken the fame Of a life that for thee was resign'd...
Strana 64 - Thou wouldst still be ador'd, 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.