The poetical works of Thomas Moore, with illustr. by K. Halswelle1863 |
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Výsledky 1 - 5 z 100.
Strana x
... sigh of sadness , That even 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 ...
... sigh of sadness , That even 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 ...
Strana xvi
... sigh thy lips of art , ' " No , Lady ! keep the ring , " 99 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 195 198 To " When I loved you , I can't but allow , " 199 From the Greek of Meleager- “ Fill high the cup , " " I found her not - the chamber ...
... sigh thy lips of art , ' " No , Lady ! keep the ring , " 99 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 195 198 To " When I loved you , I can't but allow , " 199 From the Greek of Meleager- “ Fill high the cup , " " I found her not - the chamber ...
Strana xvii
... sigh , " Anacreontic- " I fill'd to thee , to thee I drank , " To -'s Picture- " Go , then , if she whose shade , " Fragment of Mythological Hymn- " Blest infant , " To the Duke of Montpensier- " To catch the thought , " The Philosopher ...
... sigh , " Anacreontic- " I fill'd to thee , to thee I drank , " To -'s Picture- " Go , then , if she whose shade , " Fragment of Mythological Hymn- " Blest infant , " To the Duke of Montpensier- " To catch the thought , " The Philosopher ...
Strana xviii
... sigh , " . 66 ' Sigh not thus , O simple boy , " " " Tis love that murmurs in my breast , " " Young Ella was the happiest maid , " The Pilgrim- " Holy be the pilgrim's sleep , " PAGE 250 251 253 253 254 254 256 256 261 263 264 265 266 ...
... sigh , " . 66 ' Sigh not thus , O simple boy , " " " Tis love that murmurs in my breast , " " Young Ella was the happiest maid , " The Pilgrim- " Holy be the pilgrim's sleep , " PAGE 250 251 253 253 254 254 256 256 261 263 264 265 266 ...
Strana xxii
... sigh , yet feel no pain , ' 393 " " " Spirit of Joy , thy altar lies , " " When Leila touch'd the lute , " Boat Glee " The song that lightens , " " Oh think , when a hero is sighing , ' " " Cupid's Lottery- " A Lottery , a Lottery ...
... sigh , yet feel no pain , ' 393 " " " Spirit of Joy , thy altar lies , " " When Leila touch'd the lute , " Boat Glee " The song that lightens , " " Oh think , when a hero is sighing , ' " " Cupid's Lottery- " A Lottery , a Lottery ...
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Časté výrazy a frázy
angel Arab Azim Baalbec beam beautiful beneath blest bliss blood bloom bosom bowers breath breeze bright brow burning Caliph Cashmere charm cheek dark dead Dead-Sea fruits dear death deep Dismal Swamp divine dread dream e'er earth eyes Fadladeen fair falchion feel Feramorz fire flame flowers Gazna gems genii Ghebers glory glow Hafed Haram hath heart heaven holy Holy Valley hope hour hung hyæna Iran Iran's Khorassan Lahore lake Lalla Rookh light lips look look'd lover lute lyre maid moonlight morning mountain ne'er never night Nourmahal nymph o'er pass'd Peri pure round satrap seem'd shade shed shine shone sigh skies slave sleep smile song soul sparkling spirit star sweet sword Tahmuras tear tell thee thine thou thought throne towers trembling turn'd Twas veil wandering warm wave weep wild wings wretch young youth Zelica
Populárne pasáže
Strana 439 - 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 421 - 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 25 - 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.
Strana 447 - To pine on the stem; Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep thou with them. Thus kindly I scatter Thy leaves o'er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead. So soon may / follow, When friendships decay, And from Love's shining circle The gems drop away.
Strana 415 - Go where glory waits thee, But while fame elates thee, Oh ! still remember me. When the praise thou meetest To thine ear is sweetest, Oh ! then remember me. Other arms may press thee, Dearer friends caress thee, All the joys that bless thee Sweeter far may be; But when friends are nearest, And when joys are dearest, Oh ! then remember me.
Strana 400 - This world is all a fleeting show For man's illusion given ; The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, Deceitful shine, deceitful flow, — There's nothing true but Heaven ! And false the light on glory's plume, As fading hues of even ; And Love, and Hope, and Beauty's bloom Are blossoms gathered for the tomb, — There's nothing bright but Heaven ! Poor wanderers of a stormy day, From wave to wave we're driven, And fancy's flash and reason's ray Serve but to light the troubled way, — There's nothing...
Strana 60 - 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.
Strana 398 - 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.
Strana 460 - And a heart and a hand all thy own to the last. Oh ! what was love made for, if 'tis not the same Through joy and through torment, through glory and shame ? I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart, I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art.
Strana 460 - OH, where's the slave so lowly, Condemn'd to chains unholy, Who, could he burst His bonds at first, Would pine beneath them slowly ? What soul, whose wrongs degrade it, Would wait till time decay'd it, When thus its wing At once may spring To the throne of Him who made it f Farewell, Erin, — farewell, all, Who live to weep our fall...