The works of Thomas Moore, Volumen 11832 |
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Página xxxii
... dream of popular celebrity . And if we can give credit for this power to the many who have lived unknown and shunned pub- licity , how much more must we not be inclined to allow to him of acknowledged genius , and who has manifested it ...
... dream of popular celebrity . And if we can give credit for this power to the many who have lived unknown and shunned pub- licity , how much more must we not be inclined to allow to him of acknowledged genius , and who has manifested it ...
Página lv
... dream ! By comparing the odds upon the known chances of human life , it is no wonder that the admirers of his lordship's works should be more numerous than those of his more agreeable rival . We are not going to speak of any preference ...
... dream ! By comparing the odds upon the known chances of human life , it is no wonder that the admirers of his lordship's works should be more numerous than those of his more agreeable rival . We are not going to speak of any preference ...
Página 18
... dreams of good that , vainly grand , Haunt the young heart ; -proud views of human - kind , Of men to Gods exalted and refined ; - False views , like that horizon's fair deceit , Where earth and heaven but seem , alas , to meet ! — Soon ...
... dreams of good that , vainly grand , Haunt the young heart ; -proud views of human - kind , Of men to Gods exalted and refined ; - False views , like that horizon's fair deceit , Where earth and heaven but seem , alas , to meet ! — Soon ...
Página 23
... before , -but ah ! not bright for thee ; No - dread , unlook'd for , like a visitant From th ' other world , he comes as if to haunt Thy guilty soul with dreams of lost delight , Long THE VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN . 23.
... before , -but ah ! not bright for thee ; No - dread , unlook'd for , like a visitant From th ' other world , he comes as if to haunt Thy guilty soul with dreams of lost delight , Long THE VEILED PROPHET OF KHORASSAN . 23.
Página 24
Thomas Moore. Thy guilty soul with dreams of lost delight , Long lost to all but Memory's aching sight : - Sad dreams ! as when the Spirit of our Youth Returns in sleep , sparkling with all the truth And innocence once ours , and leads ...
Thomas Moore. Thy guilty soul with dreams of lost delight , Long lost to all but Memory's aching sight : - Sad dreams ! as when the Spirit of our Youth Returns in sleep , sparkling with all the truth And innocence once ours , and leads ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Anacreon angels Arab bard beautiful beneath bird bliss blood bowers breath bright brow burning Caliph called Cashmere charm cheek dark dead dear death deep Delhi delightful dread dream earth eyes FADLADEEN falchion feel FERAMORZ fire flame flowers gardens Genii genius Ghebers glory gold HAFED Haram hath heart Heaven holy hour hyæna Indian IRAN's Khorassan King Koran Lake LALLA ROOKH light lips live look look'd Lord Byron lover lute maid minstrels MOKANNA moonlight Moore Moore's mountain Naptha never night NOURMAHAL o'er once PERI Persian poem poet poetry Princess pure round SCOTT WARING seem'd shining SHIRAZ shone sigh skies slave sleep smile song soul sound sparkling spirit star sunk sweet sword Tahmuras tears thee thine Thomas Moore thou thought throne Tibet Transoxiania tree turn'd Twas veil wave Waved plates wild wings wonder wretch young youth ZELICA
Pasajes populares
Página 299 - Alas — how light a cause may move Dissension between hearts that love ! Hearts that the world in vain had tried, And sorrow but more closely tied ; That stood the storm, when waves were rough, Yet in a sunny hour fall off, Like ships, that have gone down at sea, When Heaven was all tranquillity...
Página 66 - And a dew was distill'd from their flowers, that gave All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone. Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, An essence that breathes of it many a year ; Thus bright to my soul, as 'twas then to my eyes, Is that bower on the banks of the calm BENDEMEER.
Página 65 - 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...
Página 154 - 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 turn'd To the fair child, who fearless sat, Though never yet hath daybeam burn'd Upon a brow more fierce than that...
Página xxxix - Who, as they sung, would take the prison'd soul, And lap it in Elysium; Scylla wept, And chid her barking waves into attention, And fell Charybdis...
Página 133 - PARADISE AND THE PERI. ONE morn a Peri at the gate Of Eden stood, disconsolate ; And as she listened to the Springs Of Life within, like music flowing, And caught the light upon her wings Through the half-open portal glowing, She wept to think her recreant race Should e'er have lost that glorious place !
Página 147 - I'd shed it all, To give thy brow one minute's calm. Nay, turn not from me that dear face — Am I not thine — thy own loved bride — The one, the chosen one, whose place In life or death is by thy side ! • Think'st thou that she, whose only light, In this dim world, from thee hath shone, Could bear the long, the cheerless night, That must be hers, when thou art gone ? That I can live, and let thee go, Who art my life itself? — No, no — When the stem dies, the leaf that grew Out of its heart...
Página 157 - Flew o'er the dark flood of his life, Nor found one sunny resting-place, Nor brought him back one branch of grace ?
Página 156 - Lisping th' eternal name of God From purity's own cherub mouth, And looking, while his hands and eyes Are lifted to the glowing skies, Like a stray babe of Paradise, Just lighted on that flowery plain, And seeking for its home again...
Página 139 - Downward the Peri turns her gaze, And through the war-field's bloody haze Beholds a youthful warrior stand Alone beside his native river. The red blade broken in his hand And the last arrow in his quiver. "Live," said the conqueror, "live to share The trophies and the crowns I bear!