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" Ne'er tell me of glories serenely adorning The close of our day, the calm eve of our night : — Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of Morning, Her clouds and her tears are worth Evening's best light. "
Irish Melodies - Página 149
de Thomas Moore - 1821 - 259 páginas
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The Wanderings of a Goldfinch; Or, Characteristic Sketches in the Nineteenth ...

Mary Anne McMullan - 1816 - 376 páginas
...the animal and vegetable worlds. *' Ne'er tell me of glories serenely adorning, The set of our sun, the calm eve of our night ; Give me back, give me...clouds and her tears are worth Evening's best light." Such was the tenor of my song, as I was perched on the acorn-covered branch of an oak, after having...
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Tickler, Or, Monthly Compendium of Good Things, in Prose and ..., Volumes 1-3

1818 - 596 páginas
...Each wave that we danc'd ou at morning ebbs from us, And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone. Ne'er tell me of glories serenely adorning The close...of our night : Give me back, give me back the wild freehness of morning, Her cloud* and her tears are worth evening'i best lighht. STORY OF ALBERT BANE....
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The Annual Register, Or, A View of the History, Politics, and ..., Volume 60

1819 - 838 páginas
...Each wave that we danc'd on at morning ebbs from us, And leaves us at eve on the bleak shore alone. Ne'er tell me of glories serenely adorning The close...clouds and her tears are worth evening's best light. Oh ! who would not welcome that moment's returning, When passion first wak'da new life thro' his frame,...
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Annual Register, Volume 60

Edmund Burke - 1819 - 872 páginas
...Each wave that we danc'd on at morning ebbs from us, And leaves us at eve on the bleak shore alone. Ne'er tell me of glories serenely adorning The close...clouds and her tears are worth evening's best light. Oh ! who would not welcome that moment's returning, When passion first wak'da new life thro' his frame,...
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British melodies, extracts from the modern poets [signed J.H.R.].

British melodies - 1820 - 280 páginas
...Each wave that we danc'd on at morning ebbs from us, And leaves us at eve, on the blank shore alone. Ne'er tell me of glories, serenely adorning The close of our day, the calm eve of our night; — dve me back, give me back the wild freshness of Morning) Her clouds and her tears are worth Evening's...
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Briefe an eine deutsche Edelfrau über die neuesten englischen Dichter

Friedrich Johann Jacobsen - 1820 - 796 páginas
...den Regenbogen der Hoffuung seines Wellington's Namen seyn, • . Ke'er te4l me of glories , strenely adorning The close of our day , the calm eve of our night ; — Givs me back , give me back the wild freshnett of Morning, Her clouda and her tears are worth...
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Melodies (Irish melodies, National melodies).

Thomas Moore - 1821 - 276 páginas
...promise! So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known; Each wave that we danced on at morning ebbs Ne'er tell me of glories, serenely adorning The close...clouds and her tears are worth Evening's best light. Oh! who would not welcome that moment's returning, When Passion first waked a new life through his...
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Beauties of the Scottish poets, or Harp of Renfrewshire, a collection of ...

Renfrew county - 1821 - 542 páginas
...Each wave that we danc'd on at morning ebbs from us, And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone ! Ne'er tell me of glories, serenely adorning The close of our day, the calm of our night ; — Give me back, give me back the mild freshness of morning, Her clouds and her tean...
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Irish melodies, complete; to which are added National melodies

Thomas Moore - 1822 - 198 páginas
...Each wave that we danced on at morning ebb« from ui, And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore'alone. Ne'er tell me of glories, serenely adorning The close...calm eve of our night ; — Give me back, give me bacic, the wild freskaess of Morning, Her clouds and her tears are worth Evening'* best light. Oh !...
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The Works of Thomas Moore: Irish melodies. National airs

Thomas Moore - 1823 - 464 páginas
...our life's early promise, So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known : Each wave, that we danced on at morning, ebbs from us, And leaves us, at eve,...welcome that moment's returning, When passion first waked a new life through his frame, And his soul — like the wood that grows precious in burning —...
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