The poetical works of Thomas Moore, with lifeHouston & Wright, 1866 - 490 sider |
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Side xiv
... Twas in the summer - time , " 66 Nay , do not weep , my Fanny dear ! " Aspasia " Twas in the fair Aspasia's bower , " The Grecian Girl's Dream of the Blessed Islands , 202 " " 203 203 204 204 206 206 207 194 195 196 197 • 198 • 199 ...
... Twas in the summer - time , " 66 Nay , do not weep , my Fanny dear ! " Aspasia " Twas in the fair Aspasia's bower , " The Grecian Girl's Dream of the Blessed Islands , 202 " " 203 203 204 204 206 206 207 194 195 196 197 • 198 • 199 ...
Side xv
... Twas on a day , " Anacreontic " She never look'd so kind before , " To Mrs Is not thy mind a gentle mind , " 66 " " 219 222 223 227 228 Hymn of a Virgin of Delphi- " Oh ! lost , for ever , " 224 To Miss Beckford , on her singing- " I ...
... Twas on a day , " Anacreontic " She never look'd so kind before , " To Mrs Is not thy mind a gentle mind , " 66 " " 219 222 223 227 228 Hymn of a Virgin of Delphi- " Oh ! lost , for ever , " 224 To Miss Beckford , on her singing- " I ...
Side xvi
... Twas but for a moment , " Written on passing Dead - Man's Island- " See you , ' To the Boston Frigate- " With triumph , this , " Black and Blue Eyes- " The brilliant black eye , " Dear Fanny- " She has beauty , but still you must ...
... Twas but for a moment , " Written on passing Dead - Man's Island- " See you , ' To the Boston Frigate- " With triumph , this , " Black and Blue Eyes- " The brilliant black eye , " Dear Fanny- " She has beauty , but still you must ...
Side xvii
... Twas in an airy dream of night , " XXX . Arm'd with hyacinthine rod , " . XXXI . " Strew me a breathing bed of leaves , " XXXII . " " Twas noon of night , when round , " XXXIII . " Oh thou , of all creation blest , " XXXIV . " Cupid ...
... Twas in an airy dream of night , " XXX . Arm'd with hyacinthine rod , " . XXXI . " Strew me a breathing bed of leaves , " XXXII . " " Twas noon of night , when round , " XXXIII . " Oh thou , of all creation blest , " XXXIV . " Cupid ...
Side 11
... prayer ! When round him hung such a perpetual spell , What e'er he did , none ever did so well . Too happy days ! when , if he touched a flower Or gem of thine , ' twas sacred from that THE VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN . 11.
... prayer ! When round him hung such a perpetual spell , What e'er he did , none ever did so well . Too happy days ! when , if he touched a flower Or gem of thine , ' twas sacred from that THE VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN . 11.
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Anacreon angel beam beautiful beneath bless blest bliss blood bloom bosom bowers breath breath'd breeze bright brow burning Cashmere charm cheek cup of Jamshid dark dear death Dismal Swamp divine dream e'er earth enchanted wreath ev'n eyes Fadladeen fair falchion fancy feel Feramorz fire flame flowers Ghebers glory glow gold Hafed Haram hath heart Heaven holy hour hung hyæna Iran Iran's lake Lalla Rookh light lips look look'd lov'd lover lute lyre maid moonlight morning mountain ne'er never night Nourmahal nymph o'er pass'd Peri Persian poet Polianthes tuberosa pure roses round seem'd shade shed shining sigh skies sleep smile song soul sparkling spirit star sweet sword Tahmuras tears tears of wine tell thee thine thou thought throne trembling turn'd Twas veil wandering warm wave weep wild wing wretch young youth
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Side 403 - Twas that friends, the beloved of my bosom, were near, Who made every dear scene of enchantment more dear, And who felt how the best charms of nature improve, When we see them reflected from looks that we love. Sweet vale of Avoca ! how calm could I rest In thy bosom of shade, with the friends I love best, Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease, And our hearts, like thy waters, Be mingled in peace.
Side 434 - Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone ; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone ; No flower of her kindred, No rose-bud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, Or give sigh for sigh. I'll not leave thee, thou lone one ! 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.
Side 49 - 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!
Side 402 - 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. Yet it was not that Nature had shed o'er the scene, Her purest of crystal and brightest of green ; 'Twas not the soft magic of streamlet or hill ; Oh ! no — it was something more exquisite still.
Side 383 - 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...
Side 23 - 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.
Side 139 - For, oh, if there be an elysium on earth, It is this, it is this ! There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, When two, that are link'd in one heavenly tie, With heart never changing and brow never cold, Love on through all ills, and love on till they die ; One hour of a passion so sacred is worth Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss : And oh...
Side 386 - And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand ; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances. And Miriam answered them, Sing ye to the LORD, for he hath triumphed gloriously ; the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea.
Side 382 - Therefore, behold, the days come, saith the Lord, that it shall no more be called Tophet, nor the valley of the son of Hinnom, but the valley of Slaughter ; for they shall bury in Tophet, till there be no place.
Side 409 - Neagh's bank as the fisherman strays, When the clear cold eve's declining, He sees the round towers of other days In the wave beneath him shining...