The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore: Including His Melodies, Ballads, Etc., Complete in One VolumeJ. Crissy, 1838 - 419 páginas |
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Página iii
... Lyre ib . To the Flying Fish . 102 The Snake . EPISTLE II . To Miss M- ib . EPISTLE VII . To T. Hume , Esq . Lines written on leaving Philadelphia ib . 129 ib . To Cara . 103 The fall of Hebe ib . To ditto 104 To 131 To the Invisible ...
... Lyre ib . To the Flying Fish . 102 The Snake . EPISTLE II . To Miss M- ib . EPISTLE VII . To T. Hume , Esq . Lines written on leaving Philadelphia ib . 129 ib . To Cara . 103 The fall of Hebe ib . To ditto 104 To 131 To the Invisible ...
Página iv
... Lyre IV . Vulcan ! hear your glorious task V. Grave me a cup with brilliant grace VI . As late I sought the spangled bowers VII . The women tell me every day . VIII . I care not for the idle state ib . • ib . ib . 239 ib . • 240 ib ...
... Lyre IV . Vulcan ! hear your glorious task V. Grave me a cup with brilliant grace VI . As late I sought the spangled bowers VII . The women tell me every day . VIII . I care not for the idle state ib . • ib . ib . 239 ib . • 240 ib ...
Página vi
... lyre Sing , sing , music was given NATIONAL AIRS.-No. I. Advertisement A temple to Friendship . - Spanish Air Flow on , thou shining river . - Portuguese Air All that's bright must fade . - Indian Air So warmly we met . - Hungarian Air ...
... lyre Sing , sing , music was given NATIONAL AIRS.-No. I. Advertisement A temple to Friendship . - Spanish Air Flow on , thou shining river . - Portuguese Air All that's bright must fade . - Indian Air So warmly we met . - Hungarian Air ...
Página 5
... listen with patience to this humble tribute to the was delivered by his son , in a tone and manner living masters of the English lyre , which I , ' the meanest of the throng , ' thus feebly , but A SKETCH OF THOMAS MOORE .
... listen with patience to this humble tribute to the was delivered by his son , in a tone and manner living masters of the English lyre , which I , ' the meanest of the throng , ' thus feebly , but A SKETCH OF THOMAS MOORE .
Página xxii
... lyre ; who were then , it sicians became numerous , and the art was regarded seems , clothed in purple and fine linen , and fared of easier acquirement , they lost their favour ; and , sumptuously every day . It is true , they were ...
... lyre ; who were then , it sicians became numerous , and the art was regarded seems , clothed in purple and fine linen , and fared of easier acquirement , they lost their favour ; and , sumptuously every day . It is true , they were ...
Outras edições - Ver todos
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore: Including His Melodies, Ballads, Etc ... Thomas Moore Visualização completa - 1831 |
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore: Including His Melodies, Ballads, Etc ... Thomas Moore Visualização completa - 1849 |
The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore: Including His Melodies, Ballads Etc ... Thomas Moore Visualização completa - 1827 |
Termos e frases comuns
Anacreon ancient angels bard beam beautiful beneath bless blest bliss bloom blush bosom bowers breath bright brow burning called Catullus charm cheek Cicero creon dark dear death delight divine dream e'en e'er earth Epicurus epigram eyes fair fancy feel fire flame flowers friends glory glow grace Haram hath heart heaven holy hope hour Ireland Irish King kiss LALLA ROOKH light lips live look look'd Lord Lord Byron Love's lover lute lyre maid Moore morning ne'er never night nymph o'er once Persian Pindar Plato Plutarch poem poet rose round Sappho seem'd shade shed shine sigh sleep smile song soul sparkling spirit sweet tears tell thee There's thine thing THOMAS MOORE thou thought throne turn'd Twas warm wave weep wild wings words young youth δε και
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 362 - DRY'ST THE MOURNER'S TEAR. (AiR. — HAYDN.) •' He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds." — Psalm cxlvii. 3. OH Thou who dry'st the mourner's tear. How dark this world would be, If, when deceived and wounded here, We could not fly to Thee. 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 319 - 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. Sweet vale of Avoca ! how calm could I rest In thy bosom of shade with the friends I love best, Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease, And our hearts, like thy waters, be mingled in peace ! ST SENANUS AND THE LADY.
Página 354 - Those joyous hours are passed 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 bells ! Moore.
Página 139 - I KNEW, by the smoke that so gracefully curled Above the green elms, that a cottage was near, And I said, " If there's peace to be found in the world, A heart that was humble might hope for it here...
Página 59 - Oh ! ever thus, from childhood's hour, I've seen my fondest hopes decay ; I never loved a tree or flower, But 'twas the first to fade away. I never nursed a dear gazelle, To glad me with its soft black eye, • But when it came to know me well, And love me, it was sure to die...
Página 362 - Then sorrow, touched by Thee, grows bright With more than rapture's ray ; As darkness shows us worlds of light We never saw by day ! • Thomas Moore, 1779—1852.
Página 52 - Now, upon SYRIA'S land of roses Softly the light of eve reposes, And, like a glory, the broad sun Hangs over sainted LEBANON ; Whose head in wintry grandeur towers, And whitens with eternal sleet, While summer, in a vale of flowers, Is sleeping rosy at his feet.
Página 334 - 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. So soon may...
Página 363 - SOUND the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea ! Jehovah has triumphed, — 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 I Jehovah has triumphed, — his people are free ! Prai.se to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord ! His word was our arrow, his breath was our sword.
Página 319 - 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.