Lalla Rookh: An Oriental Romance

Forsideomslag
Longman, Brown, Green & Longmans, 1856 - 392 sider
 

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Populære passager

Side 256 - His country's curse, his children's shame. Outcast of virtue, peace, and fame. May he, at last, with lips of flame On the parch'd desert thirsting die, — While lakes that shone in mockery nigh...
Side 180 - Flew o'er the dark flood of his life, Nor found one sunny resting-place, Nor brought him back one branch of grace ?
Side 215 - 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 74 - There's a bower 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.
Side 376 - One hour of a passion so sacred is worth Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss ; And, oh ! if there be an Elysium on earth, It is this, it is this.
Side 177 - mid the roses lay, She saw a wearied man dismount From his hot steed, and on the brink Of a small imaret's rustic fount Impatient fling him down to drink. Then swift his haggard brow he...
Side 75 - 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 the roses still bright by the calm Bendemeer...
Side 233 - Rebellion ! foul, dishonouring word, Whose wrongful blight so oft has stain'd The holiest cause that tongue or sword Of mortal ever lost or gain'd. How many a spirit, born to bless, Hath sunk beneath that withering name Whom but a day's — an hour's success Had wafted to eternal fame...
Side 336 - Or to see it by moonlight, — when mellowly shines The light o'er its palaces, gardens, and shrines ; When the water-falls gleam, like a quick fall of stars, And the nightingale's hymn from the Isle of Chenars Is broken by laughs and light echoes of feet From the cool, shining walks where the young people meet.
Side 270 - How calm, how beautiful comes on The stilly hour when storms are gone, When warring winds have died away, And clouds, beneath the glancing ray, Melt off, and leave the land and sea Sleeping in bright tranquillity...

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