The works of Thomas Moore, comprehending all his melodies, ballads, etc, Bind 41823 |
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Side v
... glory waits thee • Remember the glories of Brien the brave Erin ! the tear and the smile in thine eyes Oh ! breathe not his name , let it sleep in the shade . When he who adores thee has left but the name The harp that once through ...
... glory waits thee • Remember the glories of Brien the brave Erin ! the tear and the smile in thine eyes Oh ! breathe not his name , let it sleep in the shade . When he who adores thee has left but the name The harp that once through ...
Side 9
Thomas Moore. IRISH MELODIES . m No. I. mm GO WHERE GLORY WAITS THEE . AIR . - Maid of the Valley . I. Go where glory waits thee , But , while fame elates thee , Oh ! still remember me . When the praise thou meetest To thine ear is ...
Thomas Moore. IRISH MELODIES . m No. I. mm GO WHERE GLORY WAITS THEE . AIR . - Maid of the Valley . I. Go where glory waits thee , But , while fame elates thee , Oh ! still remember me . When the praise thou meetest To thine ear is ...
Side 12
... glory remains on each sword To light us to victory yet ! II . MONONIA ! when nature embellish'd the tint Of thy fields and thy mountains so fair , Did she ever intend that a tyrant should print The footstep of Slavery there ? No ...
... glory remains on each sword To light us to victory yet ! II . MONONIA ! when nature embellish'd the tint Of thy fields and thy mountains so fair , Did she ever intend that a tyrant should print The footstep of Slavery there ? No ...
Almindelige termer og sætninger
adorns AIR.-The bard battle of Clontarf beam beauty bless'd bliss bosom bowers bowl breath Brien bright calm chain charm choly CICERO clouds cold dark daylight dies dear death dream earth ERIN ERIN's EVELEEN'S eyes fade fair fame farewell feel flowers FOLLY forget friends gleam gloom glory gondolier gone grave harp hath heart Heaven hope hour Ireland IRISH MELODIES Irish Poetry isle leaves light lips Lough Neagh Love's lovers maiden maids melan moon morning Music of Ireland ne'er never night NUMBER o'er once pleasure pleasure's Rathdrum Red Branch remember river Shannon rivers Avon roam round saint SENANUS shade Shamrock shed shine shore sigh sleep smile song sorrow soul sparkled spirit star sweet tear thee thine THOMAS MOORE thou thought to-night turn'd Twas wake warm waves weep wherever wild woman young youth
Populære passager
Side 16 - THE harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed. Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls, As if that soul were fled. — So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts, that once beat high for praise, Now feel that pulse no more.
Side 143 - You may break, you may shatter the vase, if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
Side 138 - Though all the world betrays thee, One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard, One faithful harp shall praise thee ! " The minstrel fell ! — but the foeman's chain Could not bring his proud soul under ; The harp he lov-ed ne'er spoke again, For he tore its chords asunder ; And said, " No chains shall sully thee, Thou soul of love and bravery ! Thy songs were made for the pure and free, They shall never sound in slavery...
Side 135 - 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 43 - Shall I ask the brave soldier, who fights by my side In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree ? Shall I give up the friend I have valued and tried, If he kneel not before the same altar with me...
Side 166 - Oh! what was love made for, if 'tis not the same Through joy and through torment, through glory and shame? I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart, I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art.
Side 88 - Music ! oh, how faint, how weak, Language fades before thy spell ! Why should Feeling ever speak, When thou canst breathe her soul so well ? Friendship's balmy words may feign. Love's are even more false than they ; Oh ! 'tis only Music's strain Can sweetly soothe, and not betray!
Side 173 - Till touch'd by some hand less unworthy than mine ; If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover, Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone ; I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over, And all the wild sweetness I wak'd was thy own.
Side 111 - 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 168 - 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.