The poetical works of Thomas MooreCrissy and Grigg, 1829 - Всего страниц: 408 |
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Стр. iv
... flowers XLV . Within this goblet , rich and deep . XLVI . See , the young , the rosy spring XLVII . ' T is true , my ... flower . LXXV . Monarch Love ! resistless boy . . • • Page Page LXXVI . Spirit of Love , whose tresses iv CONTENTS .
... flowers XLV . Within this goblet , rich and deep . XLVI . See , the young , the rosy spring XLVII . ' T is true , my ... flower . LXXV . Monarch Love ! resistless boy . . • • Page Page LXXVI . Spirit of Love , whose tresses iv CONTENTS .
Стр. xxvi
... flowers , Almost every European nation has a kind of primitive music , peculiar to itself ; consisting of short and simple tunes or melodies , which at the same time that they please cultivated and scien- tific ears , are the object of ...
... flowers , Almost every European nation has a kind of primitive music , peculiar to itself ; consisting of short and simple tunes or melodies , which at the same time that they please cultivated and scien- tific ears , are the object of ...
Стр. xxxi
... flowers of poesy , every where lends its perfume to the verse of the bard of Erin . The noble bard ( less fortunate in his muse ) tried to extract poison from them . If Lord Byron cast his own views or feelings upon outward objects ...
... flowers of poesy , every where lends its perfume to the verse of the bard of Erin . The noble bard ( less fortunate in his muse ) tried to extract poison from them . If Lord Byron cast his own views or feelings upon outward objects ...
Стр. xxxiii
... flowers around , as in that Persian festival called the Scattering of the Roses ; 1 till every part of the city was as fragrant as if a caravan of musk from Khoten had passed through it . The Princess , having taken leave of her kind ...
... flowers around , as in that Persian festival called the Scattering of the Roses ; 1 till every part of the city was as fragrant as if a caravan of musk from Khoten had passed through it . The Princess , having taken leave of her kind ...
Стр. xxxiii
... flower , Or gem of thine , ' t was sacred from that hour ; When thou didst study him till every tone And gesture and dear ... flowers , that hung above the wave at morn , Bless'd not the waters as they murmur'd by , With holier scent and ...
... flower , Or gem of thine , ' t was sacred from that hour ; When thou didst study him till every tone And gesture and dear ... flowers , that hung above the wave at morn , Bless'd not the waters as they murmur'd by , With holier scent and ...
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Anacreon ancient angels Bacchus bard beam beautiful beneath bless blest bliss bloom blush bosom bowers breath bright brow burning called Catullus charm creon dark dear death delight divine dream e'er earth Epicurus epigram eyes fair fancy feel fire flame flowers glory glow grace hath heart Heaven holy hope hour Irish King kiss Lady Morgan Lalla Rookh light lips live look look'd Lord Lord Byron lyre maid Moore morning ne'er never night Note nymph o'er Persian Philostratus Pindar Plato poem poet rose rosy round says seem'd shade shed shine sigh sleep smile song soul spirit sweet tears tears of wine tell thee thine things Thomas Moore thou thought throne translation trembling turn'd twine vellum warm weep Whigs wild wing words young youth δε και
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Стр. 320 - Oft in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me : The smiles, the tears Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken ; The eyes that shone, Now dimm'd and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken ! Thus in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain lias bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me.
Стр. 333 - 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.
Стр. 301 - Though all the world betrays thee, One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard, One faithful harp shall praise thee !" The minstrel fell ! but the foeman's chain Could not bring his proud soul under ! The harp he loved ne'er spoke again, For he tore its chords asunder...
Стр. 285 - OH ! BREATHE NOT HIS NAME. AIR — The Brown Maid. On ! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade, Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid : Sad, silent, and dark be the tears that we shed, As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head...
Стр. 285 - No ; — life is a waste of wearisome hours, Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns ; And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers. Is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.
Стр. 57 - There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told, When two, that are linked in one heavenly tie, With heart never changing, and brow never cold, Love on through all ills, and love on till they die...
Стр. 285 - OH ! think not my spirits are always as light, And as free from a pang as they seem to you now ; Nor expect that the heart-beaming smile of to-night Will return with to-morrow to brighten my brow. No : — life is a waste of wearisome hours, Which seldom the rose of enjoyment adorns...
Стр. 301 - Then awake! — the heavens look bright, my dear, Tis never too late for delight, my dear, And the best of all ways To lengthen our days, Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear...
Стр. 302 - 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.
Стр. 27 - Cheer'd by this hope, she bends her thither ; — Still laughs the radiant eye of heaven, Nor have the golden bowers of even In the rich west begun to wither ; — When, o'er the vale of Balbec winging Slowly, she sees a child at play, Among the rosy wild-flowers singing, As rosy and as wild as they ; Chasing...