Lalla Rookh: An Oriental Romance |
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Side 17
... hangings , that but ill could screen The Haram ' s loveliness , white hands were
seen Waving embroider ' d scarves , whose motion gave A perfume forth ; — like
those the Houris wave When beckoning to their bowers th ' Immortal Brave .
... hangings , that but ill could screen The Haram ' s loveliness , white hands were
seen Waving embroider ' d scarves , whose motion gave A perfume forth ; — like
those the Houris wave When beckoning to their bowers th ' Immortal Brave .
Side 63
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 . That bower and its music I
never ...
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 . That bower and its music I
never ...
Side 137
But crimson now her rivers ran With human blood — the smell of death Came
reeking from those spicy bowers , And man , the sacrifice of man , Mingled his
taint with every breath Upwafted from the innocent flowers ! Land of the Sun !
what foot ...
But crimson now her rivers ran With human blood — the smell of death Came
reeking from those spicy bowers , And man , the sacrifice of man , Mingled his
taint with every breath Upwafted from the innocent flowers ! Land of the Sun !
what foot ...
Side 221
But cheer thee , maid , — the wind that now “ Is blowing o ' er thy feverish brow , 6
To - day shall waft thee from the shore ; “ And , ere a drop of this night ' s gore “
Have time to chill in yonder towers , 6 Thou ' lt see thy own sweet Arab bowers !
But cheer thee , maid , — the wind that now “ Is blowing o ' er thy feverish brow , 6
To - day shall waft thee from the shore ; “ And , ere a drop of this night ' s gore “
Have time to chill in yonder towers , 6 Thou ' lt see thy own sweet Arab bowers !
Side 248
Twas one of those ambrosial eves A day of storm so often leaves At its calm
setting — when the West Opens her golden bowers of rest , And a moist radiance
from the skies Shoots trembling down , as from the eyes Of some meek penitent ...
Twas one of those ambrosial eves A day of storm so often leaves At its calm
setting — when the West Opens her golden bowers of rest , And a moist radiance
from the skies Shoots trembling down , as from the eyes Of some meek penitent ...
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Vi har ikke fundet nogen anmeldelser de normale steder.
Andre udgaver - Se alle
Almindelige termer og sætninger
angels arms beautiful beneath bird bliss blood bowers breath bright brow called cast charm dark dead dear death deep delightful dread dream earth ev'n eyes fair fall fear feel fire flame flowers gardens give glory gold golden half hand hath head heard heart heaven holy hope hour India King Lake LALLA land leave light lips live look lost maid morn mountain never night o'er once Page pass Persian Princess pure rest rich rise rocks roses round seen shade shining side sigh slave sleep smile soul sound spirit star stood story sweet sword tears thee thine thing thou thought thousand throne tree turn twas veil voice wandering warm wave wild wind wings young youth
Populære passager
Side 295 - 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...
Side 157 - There was a time," he said in mild, Heart-humbled tones — " thou blessed child! " When young and haply pure as thou,
Side 63 - 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 154 - Cheer'd by this hope she bends her thither ; — Still laughs the radiant eye of Heaven, Nor have the golden bowers of Even In the rich West begun to wither ; — When, o'er the vale of BALBEC winging Slowly, she sees a child at play, Among the rosy wild flowers singing, As rosy and as wild as they ; Chasing, with eager hands and eyes, The beautiful blue damsel-flies...
Side 63 - 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...
Side 159 - While the same sunbeam shines upon The guilty and the guiltless one, And hymns of joy proclaim through Heaven The triumph of a Soul Forgiven...
Side 151 - 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.
Side 155 - 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.
Side 188 - Oh ! ever thus, from childhood's hour, I've seen my fondest hopes decay ; I never loved a tree or flower, But 'twas the first to fade away. I never nursed a dear gazelle, To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well, And love me, it was sure to die...
Side 333 - When first on me they breathed and shone ; New, as if brought from other spheres, Yet welcome as if loved for years ! 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...