Lalla Rookh: An Oriental RomanceLongman, Brown, Green, Longmans and Roberts, 1856 - 392 sider |
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Side 29
... tie For which it lov'd to live or fear'd to die ; - Lorn as the hung - up lute , that ne'er hath spoken Since the sad day its master - chord was broken ! Fond maid , the sorrow of her soul was such THE VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN . 29.
... tie For which it lov'd to live or fear'd to die ; - Lorn as the hung - up lute , that ne'er hath spoken Since the sad day its master - chord was broken ! Fond maid , the sorrow of her soul was such THE VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN . 29.
Side 43
... fear or check , " Luxuriating in hate , avenge my shame , 66 My deep - felt , long - nurst loathing of man's name ! " Soon at the head of myriads , blind and fierce " As hooded falcons , through the universe " I'll sweep my dark'ning ...
... fear or check , " Luxuriating in hate , avenge my shame , 66 My deep - felt , long - nurst loathing of man's name ! " Soon at the head of myriads , blind and fierce " As hooded falcons , through the universe " I'll sweep my dark'ning ...
Side 46
... fear than one who dwells Beneath the tropics knows of icicles ! But , in those dismal words that reach'd his ear , " Oh my lost soul ! " there was a sound so drear , So like that voice , among the sinful dead , In which the legend o'er ...
... fear than one who dwells Beneath the tropics knows of icicles ! But , in those dismal words that reach'd his ear , " Oh my lost soul ! " there was a sound so drear , So like that voice , among the sinful dead , In which the legend o'er ...
Side 47
... - Though he , I fear , hath thoughts too stern for love , " Too rul'd by that cold enemy of bliss " The world calls virtue - we must conquer this ; 66 Nay , shrink not , pretty sage ! ' THE VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN . 47.
... - Though he , I fear , hath thoughts too stern for love , " Too rul'd by that cold enemy of bliss " The world calls virtue - we must conquer this ; 66 Nay , shrink not , pretty sage ! ' THE VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN . 47.
Side 74
... fear , And , like a half - tam'd antelope , more near , Though shrinking still , she came ; -then sat her down . Upon a musnud's * edge , and , bolder grown , In the pathetic mode of ISFAHAN † Touch'd a preluding strain , and thus began ...
... fear , And , like a half - tam'd antelope , more near , Though shrinking still , she came ; -then sat her down . Upon a musnud's * edge , and , bolder grown , In the pathetic mode of ISFAHAN † Touch'd a preluding strain , and thus began ...
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angels Arab AZIM beautiful beneath bird blest bliss blood bowers breath breath'd bride bright brow Bucharia burning Caliph called Cashmere charm cheek D'Herbelot dark dead dear death deep Delhi dread dream e'er earth eyes FADLADEEN falchion FERAMORZ Ferdosi Ferishta fierce fire flame flowers gardens GAZNA Genii Ghebers gleam glory gold Greek fire HAFED Haram hath heart Heaven holy hour hung hyæna India Indian IRAN IRAN's Khorassan King Koran Lahore Lake LALLA ROOKH light lips look look'd lov'd lover lute maid MOKANNA moonlight mountain Naphtha never night NOURMAHAL o'er pass'd PERI Persian poet Princess pure round seem'd shining Shiraz shone sigh skies slave sleep smile soul sound sparkling spirit star stood sunk sweet sword Tahmuras tears thee thine thou throne Tibet tree turn'd twas veil wandering warm wave weep wild wings wretch young youth ZELICA
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...