The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore, Including Melodies, Ballads, EtcJ. Crissy, 1835 - 419 sider |
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Side xxvi
... lost in a simile — the simile is we have remarked that Mr. Moore hardly ever deoverloaded with an epithet . It is “ like morn risen on scribes entire objects , but abstract qualities of objects . mid - noon . ” No eventful story , no ...
... lost in a simile — the simile is we have remarked that Mr. Moore hardly ever deoverloaded with an epithet . It is “ like morn risen on scribes entire objects , but abstract qualities of objects . mid - noon . ” No eventful story , no ...
Side 28
... lost all their charm , and the nights and noon- His dazzling brow , till man could bear its light . days were beginning to move heavily , when at length , For , far less luminous , his votaries said it was recollected that , among the ...
... lost all their charm , and the nights and noon- His dazzling brow , till man could bear its light . days were beginning to move heavily , when at length , For , far less luminous , his votaries said it was recollected that , among the ...
Side 30
... lost delight , Than earth allows us now ; -- this sword must first Long lost to all but memory's aching sight : The darkling prison - house of mankind burst , Sad dreams ! as when the Spirit of our Youth Ere Peace can visit them , or ...
... lost delight , Than earth allows us now ; -- this sword must first Long lost to all but memory's aching sight : The darkling prison - house of mankind burst , Sad dreams ! as when the Spirit of our Youth Ere Peace can visit them , or ...
Side 31
... lost ; and blushes , swift and wild And kept alive , in all its bloom of breath , Across th ' uncalm , but beauteous firmament . That purity , whose fading is love's death ! And then her look - oh ! where's the heart so wisc , But lost ...
... lost ; and blushes , swift and wild And kept alive , in all its bloom of breath , Across th ' uncalm , but beauteous firmament . That purity , whose fading is love's death ! And then her look - oh ! where's the heart so wisc , But lost ...
Side 32
... lost ! Glimmering and cold , to those who nightly pray In holy Koom , ' or Mecca's dim arcades , Sad and subdued , for the first time her frame Trembled with horror , when the summons came But brilliant , soft , such light as lovely ...
... lost ! Glimmering and cold , to those who nightly pray In holy Koom , ' or Mecca's dim arcades , Sad and subdued , for the first time her frame Trembled with horror , when the summons came But brilliant , soft , such light as lovely ...
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The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore, Including Melodies, Ballads, Etc Thomas Moore Ingen forhåndsvisning - 2023 |
Almindelige termer og sætninger
Anacreon ancient angels bard beam beautiful beneath Bermuda blest bliss bloom blush bowers breath bright brow burning Caliph called Cashmere Catullus charm cheek dark dear death delight divine dream e'en earth Epicurus epigram eyes FADLADEEN fair falchion fancy feel FERAMORZ fire flame flowers Ghebers glory glow gold grace Haram hath heart heaven holy hour hung hyæna Khorassan King kiss Lalla Rookh light lips live look look'd Lord Lord Byron lov'd lover lute lyre maid Moore morning mountain Naptha ne'er never night nymph o'er Persian Plato Plutarch poem poet pure rose round says seem'd shade shed shine sigh sleep smile song soul sparkling spirit star sweet tears tell thee thine THOMAS MOORE thou thought throne Transoxiania turn'd Twas veil warm wave weep wild wings wonder young youth
Populære passager
Side 321 - BELIEVE me, if all those endearing young charms, Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms, Like fairy-gifts fading away, Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart Would entwine itself verdantly still.
Side 330 - She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps And lovers around her are sighing : But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying.
Side 352 - When I remember all The friends so linked together, I've seen around me fall Like leaves in wintry weather; I feel like one Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead, And all but he departed...
Side 362 - SOUND the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea ! Jehovah has triurnph'd, — 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 ! Jehovah has triumph'd, — his people are free.
Side 333 - Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone ; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone ; No flower of her kindred, No rose-bud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, Or give sigh for sigh. 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 362 - And Miriam, the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand ; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances. And Miriam answered them, Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously : the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea.
Side 330 - Every note which he loved awaking — Ah ! little they think, who delight in her strains, How the heart of the minstrel is breaking ! He had lived for his love — for his country he died, They were all that to life had entwined him — Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, Nor long will his love stay behind him...
Side 361 - When hastening fondly home, Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam. But high she shoots through air and light, Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way.
Side 338 - Ne'er tell me of glories, serenely adorning The close of our day, the calm eve of our night ; — Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of Morning, Her clouds and her tears are worth Evening's best light Oh, who would not welcome that moment's returning.
Side 334 - Like the vase, in which roses have once been distilled — You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will. But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.