The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore: Including His Melodies, Ballads, Etc., Complete in One VolumeJ. Crissy, 1838 - 419 sider |
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Side vi
... lost in wooing 322 b . Come , rest in this bosom , · " T is gone , and for ever , the light we saw breaking I saw from the beach negal Like the bright lamp that shone Drink to her , who long Oh ! blame not the bard While gazing on the ...
... lost in wooing 322 b . Come , rest in this bosom , · " T is gone , and for ever , the light we saw breaking I saw from the beach negal Like the bright lamp that shone Drink to her , who long Oh ! blame not the bard While gazing on the ...
Side 8
... lost to the world : the leading perty to be burnt and destroyed before his eyes , and facts relative to which were related in the following against his own protested opinion , even if , from an letter addressed by Mr. Moore to the ...
... lost to the world : the leading perty to be burnt and destroyed before his eyes , and facts relative to which were related in the following against his own protested opinion , even if , from an letter addressed by Mr. Moore to the ...
Side xxi
... Lost ; while they who succeed in obtaining of Islamism , who pretended to have received a later a large share of présent applause , cannot but expe- and more authoritative mission than that of the Pro- rience frequent misgivings as to ...
... Lost ; while they who succeed in obtaining of Islamism , who pretended to have received a later a large share of présent applause , cannot but expe- and more authoritative mission than that of the Pro- rience frequent misgivings as to ...
Side xxii
... lost their favour ; and , sumptuously every day . It is true , they were flatter- from being seated at the tables of kings , and helped ers and parasites , and did “ dirty work " for it in those to the first cut , they were reduced to ...
... lost their favour ; and , sumptuously every day . It is true , they were flatter- from being seated at the tables of kings , and helped ers and parasites , and did “ dirty work " for it in those to the first cut , they were reduced to ...
Side xxv
... lost , should appear . " This was an amiable , but by maidens assembled on the green , and agreed to cele- no means a reasonable modesty . The light that plays trate the arrival of their poet with a dance ; they round Mr. Moore's verses ...
... lost , should appear . " This was an amiable , but by maidens assembled on the green , and agreed to cele- no means a reasonable modesty . The light that plays trate the arrival of their poet with a dance ; they round Mr. Moore's verses ...
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Anacreon ancient angels bard beam beautiful beneath bless blest bliss bloom blush bosom bowers breath bright brow burning called Catullus charm cheek Cicero creon dark dear death delight divine dream e'en e'er earth Epicurus epigram eyes fair fancy feel fire flame flowers friends glory glow grace Haram hath heart heaven holy hope hour Ireland Irish King kiss LALLA ROOKH light lips live look look'd Lord Lord Byron Love's lover lute lyre maid Moore morning ne'er never night nymph o'er once Persian Pindar Plato Plutarch poem poet rose round Sappho seem'd shade shed shine sigh sleep smile song soul sparkling spirit sweet tears tell thee There's thine thing THOMAS MOORE thou thought throne turn'd Twas warm wave weep wild wings words young youth δε και
Populære passager
Side 362 - DRY'ST THE MOURNER'S TEAR. (AiR. — HAYDN.) •' He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds." — Psalm cxlvii. 3. OH Thou who dry'st the mourner's tear. How dark this world would be, If, when deceived and wounded here, We could not fly to Thee. The friends who in our sunshine live, When winter comes, are flown ; And he who has but tears to give, Must weep those tears alone.
Side 319 - 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. Sweet vale of Avoca ! how calm could I rest In thy bosom of shade with the friends I love best, Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease, And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace ! ST SENANUS AND THE LADY.
Side 354 - Those joyous hours are passed away ; And many a heart, that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. And so 'twill be when I am gone ; That tuneful peal will still ring on, While other bards shall walk these dells, And sing your praise, sweet evening bells ! Moore.
Side 139 - I KNEW, by the smoke that so gracefully curled Above the green elms, that a cottage was near, And I said, " If there's peace to be found in the world, A heart that was humble might hope for it here...
Side 59 - Oh ! ever thus, from childhood's hour, I've seen my fondest hopes decay ; I never loved a tree or flower, But 'twas the first to fade away. I never nursed a dear gazelle, To glad me with its soft black eye, • But when it came to know me well, And love me, it was sure to die...
Side 362 - Then sorrow, touched by Thee, grows bright With more than rapture's ray ; As darkness shows us worlds of light We never saw by day ! • Thomas Moore, 1779—1852.
Side 52 - Now, upon SYRIA'S land of roses Softly the light of eve reposes, And, like a glory, the broad sun Hangs over sainted LEBANON ; Whose head in wintry grandeur towers, And whitens with eternal sleet, While summer, in a vale of flowers, Is sleeping rosy at his feet.
Side 334 - 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 363 - SOUND the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea ! Jehovah has triumphed, — 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 I Jehovah has triumphed, — his people are free ! Prai.se to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord ! His word was our arrow, his breath was our sword.
Side 319 - THERE is not in the wide world a valley so sweet, As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet; Oh ! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.