Lalla Rookh |
Fra bogen
Resultater 1-3 af 59
Side 52
And thou — curst man or fiend , whate ' er thou art , Who found ' st this burning
plague - spot in my heart , And spread ' st it - oh , so quick ! - through soul and
frame , With more than demon ' s art , till I became A loathsome thing , all
pestilence ...
And thou — curst man or fiend , whate ' er thou art , Who found ' st this burning
plague - spot in my heart , And spread ' st it - oh , so quick ! - through soul and
frame , With more than demon ' s art , till I became A loathsome thing , all
pestilence ...
Side 76
They told me thou wert dead - - why , Azin , why Did we not , both of us , that
instant die When we were parted ? Oh ! couldst thou but know With what deep
devotedness of woe I wept thy absence - o ' er and o ' er again Thinking of thee ,
still ...
They told me thou wert dead - - why , Azin , why Did we not , both of us , that
instant die When we were parted ? Oh ! couldst thou but know With what deep
devotedness of woe I wept thy absence - o ' er and o ' er again Thinking of thee ,
still ...
Side 77
Thou pitiest me I knew thou wouldst - - that sky Hath nought beneath it half so
lorn as I . The fiend who lur ' d me hither - - hist ! come near , Or thou too , thou art
lost , if he should hear Told me such things - oh ! with such devilish art As would ...
Thou pitiest me I knew thou wouldst - - that sky Hath nought beneath it half so
lorn as I . The fiend who lur ' d me hither - - hist ! come near , Or thou too , thou art
lost , if he should hear Told me such things - oh ! with such devilish art As would ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
ancient angel appearance arms beautiful beneath bird bliss blood blue bowers breath bright brow called charm dark dead dear death deep delightful dread dream earth eyes fair fall fear feel fire flame flowers gardens give glory gold golden half hand hath head heard heart Heaven holy hope hour Indian King Lake Lalla Rookh land leaves light lips live look lost maid morn mountain never night Note o'er once pass Peri Persian poet pure rest rich rise rocks roses round seen shining side sigh slave sleep smile soul sound spirit star stood story sweet sword tears thee thou thought throne tree turn Twas Valley veil voice wandering warm wave wild wind wings young youth