Lalla RookhH. Altemus Company, 1895 - 273 sider "Lalla Rookh is an Oriental romance by Thomas Moore, published in 1817. The title is taken from the name of the heroine of the frame tale, the daughter of the 17th-century Mughal emperor Aurangzeb. The work consists of four narrative poems with a connecting tale in prose."--Wikipedia |
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Side 17
... of having transformed his Fire - Worshippers into Jansenists . Quelques figuristes , " he says , " prétendent que les Guèbres sont les Jansenistes . " 66 that moment , a new and deep interest in my AUTHOR'S PREFACE . 17.
... of having transformed his Fire - Worshippers into Jansenists . Quelques figuristes , " he says , " prétendent que les Guèbres sont les Jansenistes . " 66 that moment , a new and deep interest in my AUTHOR'S PREFACE . 17.
Side 18
Thomas Moore. that moment , a new and deep interest in my whole task took possession of me . The cause of tolerance was again my inspiring theme ; and the spirit that had spoken in the melodies of Ireland soon found itself at home in the ...
Thomas Moore. that moment , a new and deep interest in my whole task took possession of me . The cause of tolerance was again my inspiring theme ; and the spirit that had spoken in the melodies of Ireland soon found itself at home in the ...
Side 38
... deep voice , which thrill'd like Alla's own ! The Young all dazzled by the plumes and lances , The glittering throne , and Haram's half - caught glances : The Old deep pondering on the promised reign Of peace and truth ; and all the ...
... deep voice , which thrill'd like Alla's own ! The Young all dazzled by the plumes and lances , The glittering throne , and Haram's half - caught glances : The Old deep pondering on the promised reign Of peace and truth ; and all the ...
Side 44
... deep to be effaced ; The one whose memory , fresh as life , is twined With every broken link of her lost mind ; " of Whose image lives , though Reason's self be wreck'd , Safe ' mid the ruins of her intellect ! Alas , poor Zelica ! it ...
... deep to be effaced ; The one whose memory , fresh as life , is twined With every broken link of her lost mind ; " of Whose image lives , though Reason's self be wreck'd , Safe ' mid the ruins of her intellect ! Alas , poor Zelica ! it ...
Side 48
... deep her soul had gone In shame and falsehood since those moments shone ! And then , her oath - there madness lay again , And , shuddering , back she sunk into her chain Of mental darkness , as if blest to flee From light , whose every ...
... deep her soul had gone In shame and falsehood since those moments shone ! And then , her oath - there madness lay again , And , shuddering , back she sunk into her chain Of mental darkness , as if blest to flee From light , whose every ...
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angel Arab Azim beauteous beautiful beneath blest bliss blood bowers brave breath bride bright brow Bucharia burning Caliph Cashmere charm cheek dark dead dear death deep Delhi dread dream e'en e'er earth eyes Fadladeen fair falchion fear Feramorz fierce fire flame flowers Gheber glance gleam glory glow Hafed Haram hath heart Heaven holy Holy Valley hour hung hyæna Iran Iran's la Péri Lahore Lalla Rookh light lips look look'd lover lute maid minarets Mokanna moonlight Moslem mountains never night Nourmahal nymph o'er once Ormuz pass'd Peri Persian poet Princess pure round ruin'd satrap seem'd shining Shiraz shone sigh skies slave sleep smile soul sound sparkling spirit star stood sunk sweet sword tears thee thine Thomas Moore thou thought throne towers turn'd twas veil voice wandering warm warrior wave weep wild wings wretch young youth Zelica
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Side 70 - soon wither'd that hung o'er the wave, But some blossoms were gather'd while freshly they shone, And a dew was distill'd from their flowers that gave All the fragrance of summer, when summer was . gone. Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, An essence that breathes of it many a year
Side 237 - Yet, ere it reach the plain below, Breaks into floods, that part forever. Oh, you that have the charge of Love, Keep him in rosy bondage bound, As in the Fields of Bliss above He sits, with flowerets fetter'd round; Loose not a tie that round him clings, -Nor ever let him use his wings ; For
Side 191 - cloudier eyes to shame. But no, 'twas but the minute's dream — A fantasy, — and ere the scream Had half-way pass'd her pallid lips, A death-like swoon, a chill eclipse Of soul and sense its darkness spread Around her, and she sunk as dead. How calm, how beautiful, comes on The stilly hour, when storms are gone
Side 134 - But nought can charm the luckless Peri : Her soul is sad, her wings are weary: Joyless she sees the Sun look down On that great Temple, once his own, Whose lonely columns stand sublime, Flinging their shadows from on high, Like dials which the wizard Time
Side 249 - of the Amra just oped by a bee ; And precious their tears as that rain from the sky, Which turns into pearls as it falls in the sea. Oh, think what the kiss and the smile must be worth When the sigh and the tear are so perfect in bliss ; And own, if there be an Elysium on earth, It is this, it is
Side 122 - Go, seek it, and redeem thy sin — 'Tis sweet to let the Pardon'd in." Rapidly as comets run To the embraces of the Sun, Fleeter than the starry brands Flung at night from angel hands, At those dark and daring sprites Down the blue vault the Peri flies,
Side 136 - Then swift his haggard brow he turn'd To the fair child, who fearless sat, Though never yet hath day-beam burn'd Upon a brow more fierce than that, — Sullenly fierce, a mixture dire, Like thunder-clouds, of gloom and fire, In which the Peri's eye could read
Side 70 - of roses by Bendemeer's stream, And the nightingale sings round it all the day long ; In the time of my childhood '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
Side 232 - all love and light, Visions by day and feasts by night ! A happier smile illumes each brow, With quicker spread each heart uncloses, And all is ecstasy — for now The Valley holds its Feast of Roses ; The joyous time, when pleasures pour Profusely round, and in their shower Hearts open, like the Season's Rose,
Side 129 - his own. Was safe from this foul midnight's breath. Safe in her father's princely halls, Where the cool airs from fountain falls, Freshly perfumed by many a brand Of the sweet wood from India's land, Were pure as she whose brow they fann'd. But see ! who yonder comes by stealth, This melancholy bower to seek.