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arms band bear beauty beneath blood break breast breath bright brow cheek chief close Conrad dare dark dead dear death deeds deep despair doom doubt dread earth face fair fall fate fear feel felt fire foes friends gaze glance grave grief guard hand hate hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour knew land late least leave less light lips live lonely look meet mind ne'er never night Note o'er once Pacha pain pale Persian raised rest rose round sail scarce seek seems seen share shore silent slave smile soothe soul sound spirit steps stern strife tale tears tell thee thine thou thought tide till true turn Twas voice wave wild wind young Zuleika
Página 10 - Appals the gazing mourner's heart, As if to him it could impart The doom he dreads, yet dwells upon ; Yes, but for these, and these alone, Some moments, ay, one treacherous hour, He still might doubt the tyrant's power ; So fair, so calm, so softly seal'd, The first, last look by death reveal'd...
Página 38 - But first, on earth as Vampire sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be 'rent : Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race : There, from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life ; Yet loathe the banquet which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse : Thy victims, ere they yet expire, Shall know the demon for their sire, As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are withered on the stem.
Página 158 - There was a laughing Devil in his sneer, That raised emotions both of rage and fear; And where his frown of hatred darkly fell, Hope withering fled, and Mercy sigh'd farewell!
Página 10 - As if to him it could impart The doom he dreads, yet dwells upon ; Yes, but for these and these alone, Some moments, ay, one treacherous hour, He still might doubt the tyrant's power; So fair, so calm, so softly seal'd, The first, last look by death reveal'd ! '-V Such is the aspect of this shore ; 'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more ! So coldly sweet, so deadly fair, We start, for soul is wanting there.
Página 150 - Oh, who can tell ? not thou, luxurious slave ! " Whose soul would sicken o'er the heaving wave; " Not thou, vain lord of wantonness and ease !
Página 79 - Gul in her bloom ; Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute, Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky, In color though varied, in beauty may vie...
Página 24 - Tis left to fly or fall alone. With wounded wing or bleeding breast, Ah! where shall either victim rest? Can this with faded pinion soar From rose to tulip as before? Or Beauty, blighted in an hour, Find joy within her broken bower?
Página 128 - A single rose is shedding there Its lonely lustre, meek and pale : It looks as planted by Despair — So white — so faint — the slightest gale Might whirl the leaves on high; And yet, though storms and blight assail. And hands more rude than wintry sky May wring it from the stem — in vain...
Página 24 - Gives but one pang, and cures all pain, And darts into her desperate brain. — So do the dark in soul expire, Or live like Scorpion girt by fire;* So writhes the mind Remorse hath riven, Unfit for earth, undoom'd for heaven, Darkness above, despair beneath, Around it flame, within it death!