The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore, Including Melodies, Ballads, Etc |
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Side 46
Show'd them , as in death's agony they gaz'd , “ Tc - night , " their Chief re -
echoes , in a voice Not the long promis d light , the brow , whose beaming Of
fiend - like mockery that bids hell rejoice ! Was to come forth , all conquering , all
...
Show'd them , as in death's agony they gaz'd , “ Tc - night , " their Chief re -
echoes , in a voice Not the long promis d light , the brow , whose beaming Of
fiend - like mockery that bids hell rejoice ! Was to come forth , all conquering , all
...
Side 47
... Though death , with thee thus tasted , is a bliss The only wretched one , still
curst with breath , Thou would'st not rob me ... By GREECE to conquering
MAHADI , ) are spent ; This death within thy arms I would not give And now the
scorpion's ...
... Though death , with thee thus tasted , is a bliss The only wretched one , still
curst with breath , Thou would'st not rob me ... By GREECE to conquering
MAHADI , ) are spent ; This death within thy arms I would not give And now the
scorpion's ...
Side 269
And yet , oh bard ! thou art not mute in death , Αντιπατρου Σιδωνιου , εις
Ανακρέοντα . Still , still we catch thy lyre's delicious breath ; ΘΑΛΛΟΙ
τετρακoρυμβος , Ανακρεον , αμφι σε κισσος And still thy songs of soft Bathylla
bloom , αβρα τε ...
And yet , oh bard ! thou art not mute in death , Αντιπατρου Σιδωνιου , εις
Ανακρέοντα . Still , still we catch thy lyre's delicious breath ; ΘΑΛΛΟΙ
τετρακoρυμβος , Ανακρεον , αμφι σε κισσος And still thy songs of soft Bathylla
bloom , αβρα τε ...
Side 282
And thou its votive saint should be : OH ! did you not hear a voice of death ?
There , there I'd make thee all divine , And did you not mark the paly form Myself
divine in honouring thee . Which rode on the silver mist of the heath , But , oh !
that ...
And thou its votive saint should be : OH ! did you not hear a voice of death ?
There , there I'd make thee all divine , And did you not mark the paly form Myself
divine in honouring thee . Which rode on the silver mist of the heath , But , oh !
that ...
Side 305
That desolating thought , which comes Into men's happiest hours and homes ;
Whose melancholy boding flings Death's shadow o'er the brightest things ,
Sicklies the infant's bloom , and spreads The grave beneath young lovers ' heads
!
That desolating thought , which comes Into men's happiest hours and homes ;
Whose melancholy boding flings Death's shadow o'er the brightest things ,
Sicklies the infant's bloom , and spreads The grave beneath young lovers ' heads
!
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The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore, Including Melodies, Ballads, Etc Thomas Moore Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2018 |
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore, Including Melodies, Ballads, Etc Thomas Moore Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2015 |
Almindelige termer og sætninger
ancient angels appears arms beam beautiful beneath bliss bloom bowers breath bright brow called charm cold dark dear death deep divine dream earth epigram eyes fair fall fancy feel felt fire flame flowers friends give given glory glow grace half hand happy hath head heart heaven hope hour kind King kiss land leave light lips live look Lord lost maid meet mind morning nature never night o'er once pass Persian poet pure rest rose round seen shade shed shine sigh sleep smile song soon soul sound spirit star sweet tears tell thee thine thing thou thought true turn Twas wandering warm wave weep wild wings young youth
Populære passager
Side 321 - BELIEVE me, if all those endearing young charms, Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms, Like fairy-gifts fading away, Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart Would entwine itself verdantly still.
Side 330 - She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps And lovers around her are sighing : But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying.
Side 352 - When I remember all The friends so linked together, I've seen around me fall Like leaves in wintry weather; I feel like one Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed...
Side 362 - SOUND the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea ! Jehovah has triurnph'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.
Side 333 - 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. So soon may...
Side 362 - 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 330 - Every note which he loved awaking — Ah ! little they think, who delight in her strains, How the heart of the minstrel is breaking ! He had lived for his love — for his country he died, They were all that to life had entwined him — Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, Nor long will his love stay behind him...
Side 361 - When hastening fondly home, Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam. But high she shoots through air and light, Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way.
Side 338 - Ne'er tell me of glories, serenely adorning The close of our day, the calm eve of our night ; — Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of Morning, Her clouds and her tears are worth Evening's best light Oh, who would not welcome that moment's returning.
Side 334 - Like the vase, in which roses have once been distilled — You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will. But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
Bibliografiske oplysninger
| Titel | The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore, Including Melodies, Ballads, Etc Bind 77 af Collection of ancient and modern British authors |
| Forfatter | Thomas Moore |
| Udgiver | J. Crissy, 1835 |
| Oprindeligt fra | University of Michigan |
| Digitaliseret | 29. jun 2005 |
| Længde | 419 sider |
| Eksporter henvisning | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |