The Poetical Works of Thomas MoorePhillips, Sampson, 1857 - 420 sider |
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Side 19
... hands . His chosen guard of bold Believers stands ; Young fire - eyed disputants , who deem their swords , On points of faith , more eloquent than words ; And such their zeai , there's not a youth with brand Uplifted there , but , at ...
... hands . His chosen guard of bold Believers stands ; Young fire - eyed disputants , who deem their swords , On points of faith , more eloquent than words ; And such their zeai , there's not a youth with brand Uplifted there , but , at ...
Side 38
... hands to wield . This very night I mean to try the art Of powerful beauty on that warrior's heart . All that my Haram boasts of bloom and wit , Of skill and charms , most rare and exquisite , Shall tempt the boy ; - young Mirzala's blue ...
... hands to wield . This very night I mean to try the art Of powerful beauty on that warrior's heart . All that my Haram boasts of bloom and wit , Of skill and charms , most rare and exquisite , Shall tempt the boy ; - young Mirzala's blue ...
Side 39
... hands clasp'd , her lips apart and pale , The maid had stood , gazing upon the Veil From which these words , like south winds through a fence Of Kerzrah flow'rs , came fill'd with pestilence ; So boldly utter'd too ! as if all dread Of ...
... hands clasp'd , her lips apart and pale , The maid had stood , gazing upon the Veil From which these words , like south winds through a fence Of Kerzrah flow'rs , came fill'd with pestilence ; So boldly utter'd too ! as if all dread Of ...
Side 52
... hand , as shrinkingly she stood , Held a small lute of gold and sandal - wood , --- Which , once or twice , she touch'd with hurried strain , Then took her trembling fingers off again . But when at length a timid glance she stole At ...
... hand , as shrinkingly she stood , Held a small lute of gold and sandal - wood , --- Which , once or twice , she touch'd with hurried strain , Then took her trembling fingers off again . But when at length a timid glance she stole At ...
Side 58
... hands clasp his knees " T is she herself ! - ' tis Zelica he sees ! But ah , so pale , so changed — none but a lover Could in that wreck of beauty's shrine discover The once - adored divinity - ev'n he Stood for some moments mute , and ...
... hands clasp his knees " T is she herself ! - ' tis Zelica he sees ! But ah , so pale , so changed — none but a lover Could in that wreck of beauty's shrine discover The once - adored divinity - ev'n he Stood for some moments mute , and ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
ANACREON Azim Bacchus Bathyllus beam beautiful beneath bless'd blest bliss blood bloom blushing bow'rs bower breath breeze bright brow burning Caliph Cashmere charm cheek cold dark dear death deep Delhi dread dream e'er earth Erin ev'n ev'ry eyes fade Fadladeen fair falchion farewell Feramorz fire flame flowers gleam glory glowing gondolier gone green arbor Hafed Haram hath heart Heav'n hope hour Iran Lahore Lalla Rookh light lips live look look'd Love's lute maid minarets moonlight morning mountains ne'er never night nymphs o'er once pass'd Peri pure roses rosy round satrap seem'd shade shed shine Ship ahoy shone sigh skies slave sleep smile song soul sound sparkling spirit Sprite star sunny sweet sword tears thee There's thine thou thought throne Tow'rds trembling turn'd veil warm wave weep wild wings young youth Zelica
Populære passager
Side 97 - 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 333 - Twas not the soft magic of streamlet or hill — Oh ! no : it was something more exquisite still. '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.
Side 107 - Of ruin'd shrines, busy and bright As they were all alive with light,— And yet more splendid, numerous flocks Of pigeons, settling on the rocks, With their rich restless wings, that gleam Variously in the crimson beam Of the warm west, — as if inlaid With brilliants from the mine, or made Of tearless rainbows, such as span Th
Side 326 - 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 ! The warm lay of love and the light note of gladness Have waken'd thy fondest, thy liveliest thrill ; But, so oft hast thou echoed the deep sigh of sadness, That ev'n in thy mirth it will steal from thee still.
Side 303 - And the bee banquets on through a whole year of flowers ; Where the sun loves to pause With so fond a delay, That the night only draws A thin veil o'er the day ; Where simply to feel that we breathe, that we live, Is worth the best joy that life elsewhere can give.
Side 309 - 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 ? Farewell, Erin ! farewell all, Who live to weep our fall...
Side 103 - She wept — the air grew pure and clear Around her, as the bright drops ran ; For there's a magic in each tear, Such kindly Spirits weep for man ! Just then beneath some orange trees, Whose fruit and blossoms in the breeze Were wantoning together, free, Like age at play with infancy...
Side 111 - And how felt he, the wretched Man reclining there — while memory ran o'er many a year of guilt and strife, flew o'er the dark flood of his life, nor found one sunny resting-place, nor brought him back one branch of grace !
Side 351 - And all but he departed! Thus, in the stilly night, Ere Slumber's chain has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me.
Side 406 - Jehovah has triumph' d — his people are free! Sing — for the pride of the tyrant is broken, His chariots, his horsemen; all splendid and brave, How vain was their boasting ! the Lord hath but spoken, And chariots and horsemen are sunk in the wave. Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! Jehovah has triumph'd — his people are free!