Melodies, Songs, Sacred Songs, and National AirsW. B. Gilley, 1825 - 300 páginas |
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Página
... breathe not his name - let it sleep in the shade Oh , doubt me not - the season Oh , for the swords of former times 59 106 43 80 113 115 38 16 74 104 Oh , had we some bright little isle of our own Oh , haste and leave this sacred isle ...
... breathe not his name - let it sleep in the shade Oh , doubt me not - the season Oh , for the swords of former times 59 106 43 80 113 115 38 16 74 104 Oh , had we some bright little isle of our own Oh , haste and leave this sacred isle ...
Página iii
... breathe not his name - let it sleep in the shade Oh , doubt me not - the season Oh , for the swords of former times Oh , had we some bright little isle of our own 59 106 43 80 113 115 38 16 74 104 72 Oh , haste and leave this sacred ...
... breathe not his name - let it sleep in the shade Oh , doubt me not - the season Oh , for the swords of former times Oh , had we some bright little isle of our own 59 106 43 80 113 115 38 16 74 104 72 Oh , haste and leave this sacred ...
Página 16
... breathe not his name . Air - The Brown Maid . Oh ! 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 ...
... breathe not his name . Air - The Brown Maid . Oh ! 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 ...
Página 34
... breath For the shamrock of Erin and olive of Spain ! Ye Blakes and O'Donnels , whose fathers resign'd The green hills of their youth , among strangers to find That repose which , at home , they had sigh'd for in vain , Breathe a hope ...
... breath For the shamrock of Erin and olive of Spain ! Ye Blakes and O'Donnels , whose fathers resign'd The green hills of their youth , among strangers to find That repose which , at home , they had sigh'd for in vain , Breathe a hope ...
Página 47
... breath ! Music ! -oh ! how faint , how weak Language fades before thy spell ! Why should feeling ever speak , When thou canst breathe her soul so well ? Friendship's balmy words may feign , Love's are e'en more false than they ; Oh ...
... breath ! Music ! -oh ! how faint , how weak Language fades before thy spell ! Why should feeling ever speak , When thou canst breathe her soul so well ? Friendship's balmy words may feign , Love's are e'en more false than they ; Oh ...
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Termos e frases comuns
Air-The bard battle of Clontarf beam beauty Behold the sun blest bliss bloom blushes bosom bower bowl breath bright brow castanet chain charm cloud cold dark daylight dies dear dream e'en e'er earth Erin ev'ning ev'ry eyes fade fair Fanny fare thee farewell feel flowers gloom glory golden Golden Bay gondolier gone harp hast hath heart heaven hope hour hudhud Irish isle JAMES DILL lapwing Lesbia light lips look look'd Lord lov'd Love bound Love-knots Love's lover lute maid Minstrel Boy moonlight morning mountain ne'er never night numbers o'er once remember roses round Saint scribble-hy shade shine shone sigh sing sleep smile song sorrow soul sparkling spirit spring sprite star summer sweet tears tell there's thine thou art thought thro to-night Twas Twill warm wave weep wild wind wing young youth
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 83 - Faintly as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune, and our oars keep time. Soon as the woods on shore look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn ! Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, The rapids are near, and the daylight's past.
Página 46 - Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone ; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone ; No flower of her kindred, No rosebud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, Or give sigh for sigh ! I'll not leave thee, thou lone one!
Página 122 - 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.
Página i - THERE is not in the wide world a valley so sweet, As that vale in whose bosom the bright waters meet ; Oh ! the last rays of feeling and life must depart, Ere the bloom of that valley shall fade from my heart.
Página 27 - 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.
Página 232 - 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...
Página 126 - SOUND the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea ! JEIIOVAH has triumph'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.
Página 126 - 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.
Página 122 - But high she shoots through air and light, Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way. So grant me, GOD, from every care And stain of passion free, Aloft, through Virtue's purer air, To hold my course to Thee ! No sin to cloud, no lure to stay My Soul, as home she springs ; — Thy Sunshine on her joyful way, Thy Freedom in her wings ! FALLEN IS THY THRONE.
Página 257 - Therefore, behold, the days come, saith the Lord, that it shall no more be called Tophet, nor the valley of the son of Hinnom, but the valley of Slaughter ; for they shall bury in Tophet, till there be no place.