Lalla Rookh1893 |
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Side 40
... a perpetual spell , Whate'er he did , none ever did so well . Too happy days ! when , if he touch'd a flower Or gem of thine , ' twas sacred from that hour ; - When thou didst study him , till every tone 40 LALLA ROOKH .
... a perpetual spell , Whate'er he did , none ever did so well . Too happy days ! when , if he touch'd a flower Or gem of thine , ' twas sacred from that hour ; - When thou didst study him , till every tone 40 LALLA ROOKH .
Side 43
... twas a lustre strange , unreal , wild ; And when she sung to her lute's touching strain , ' Twas like the notes , half ecstasy , half pain , The bulbul 1 utters , ere her soul depart , When , vanquished by some minstrel's powerful art ...
... twas a lustre strange , unreal , wild ; And when she sung to her lute's touching strain , ' Twas like the notes , half ecstasy , half pain , The bulbul 1 utters , ere her soul depart , When , vanquished by some minstrel's powerful art ...
Side 45
... Twas from a brilliant banquet , where the sound Of poesy and music breathed around , Together picturing to her mind and ear The glories of that heaven , her destined sphere , Where all was pure , where every stain that lay Upon the ...
... Twas from a brilliant banquet , where the sound Of poesy and music breathed around , Together picturing to her mind and ear The glories of that heaven , her destined sphere , Where all was pure , where every stain that lay Upon the ...
Side 55
... twas from her , whom naught could dim Or sink till now , it startled even him . , - “ Ha , my fair Priestess ! ” — thus , with ready wile , Th'impostor turn'd to greet her — “ thou , whose smile Hath inspiration in its rosy beam Beyond ...
... twas from her , whom naught could dim Or sink till now , it startled even him . , - “ Ha , my fair Priestess ! ” — thus , with ready wile , Th'impostor turn'd to greet her — “ thou , whose smile Hath inspiration in its rosy beam Beyond ...
Side 76
... twas like a sweet dream , To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song . That bower and its music I never forget , But oft when alone , in the bloom of the year , I think — is the nightingale singing there yet ? Are the roses still ...
... twas like a sweet dream , To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song . That bower and its music I never forget , But oft when alone , in the bloom of the year , I think — is the nightingale singing there yet ? Are the roses still ...
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angel appeared arms beautiful beneath bird bliss blood bowers breath bright brow called charm dark dead dear death deep delight dread dream e'en earth 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 Rookh land leaves light lips live look lost maid morn mountain never night o'er once pass Peri Persian poet Princess pure rest rich rose round seen shade shining side sigh slave sleep smile soul sound spirit star stood story sweet sword tears thee thine thou thought thousand throne tree turn twas veil voice wandering warm wave wild wind wings young youth