The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore

Carey and Hart, 1844 - 509 páginas

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They tell how Atys wild with love XIII I will I will the conflicts past
Count me on the summer trees
Tell me why my sweetest dove
Thou whose soft and rosy hues
And now with all thy pencils truth
Now the star of day is high
Here recline you gentle maid XX One day the Muses twind the hands
Observe when mother earth is dry XXII The Phrygian rock that braves the storm
often wish this languid lyre
To all that breathe the air of heaven XXV Once in each revolving year
We read the flying coursers name XXVIII As by his Lemnian forges flame
Yesloving is a painful thrill
Twas in a mocking dream of night XXXI Armd with hyacinthine
Twas noon of night when round the pole
Oh thou of all creation blest XXXV Cupid once upon a
If hoarded gold possessd the power XXXVII Twas night and many a circling bowl
Let us drain the nectard bowl
XXXIX How I love the festive boy XL I know that Heaven hath sent me here XLI When Spring adorns the dewy scene XLII Yes be the glorious rev...
Buds of roses virgin flowers
Within this goblet rich and deep XLVI Behold the young the rosy Spring
Cupid whose lamp has lent the ray Let me resign this wretched breath I know thou lovst a brimming measure I fear that love disturbs my rest
From dread Leucadias frowning steep Mix me child a cup divine
JUVENILE POEMS Preface by the Editor
Dedication to Joseph Atkinson
Fragments of College Exercises Is there no call no consecrating cause Variety To a Boy with a Watch Written for a friend Song
Reuben and Rose A tale of Romance
The Surprise
Oh 10 Dot even when first we lovd Cashmerian The Turf shall be my fragrant Shrine Air Steven

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Página 191 - You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will. But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
Página 243 - This world is all a fleeting show For man's illusion given ; The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, Deceitful shine, deceitful flow, — There's nothing true but Heaven...
Página 224 - Those joyous hours are past away ; And many a heart, that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. And so 'twill be when I am gone ; That tuneful peal will still ring on, While other bards shall walk these dells, And sing your praise, sweet evening...
Página 179 - Shall I ask the brave soldier, who fights by my side In the cause of mankind, if our creeds agree ? Shall I give up the friend I have valued and tried, If he kneel not before the same altar with me ? From the heretic girl of my soul shall I fly, To seek somewhere else a more orthodox kiss?
Página 176 - Twas not the soft magic of streamlet or hill ! Oh ! no ; it was something more exquisite still. 'Twas that friends, the beloved of my bosom, were near, Who made every dear scene of enchantment more dear ; And who felt how the best charms of nature improve When we see them reflected from looks that we love.
Página 173 - But the night-dew that falls, though in silence it weeps, Shall brighten with verdure the grave where he sleeps ; And the tear that we shed, though in secret it rolls, Shall long keep his memory green in our souls.
Página 189 - 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.
Página 226 - 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 has bound me, Sad Memory brings the light Of other days around me.
Página 353 - tis sweet to me ! There — drink my tears, while yet they fall — Would that my bosom's blood were balm, And, well thou know'st, I'd shed it all, To give thy brow one minute's calm.
Página 184 - OH! the days are gone, when Beauty bright My heart's chain wove ; When my dream of life, from morn till night, Was love, still love. New hope may bloom, And days may come Of milder, calmer beam, But there's nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream : No, there's nothing half so sweet in life As love's young dream. Tho...

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