Thomas Moore's Complete Poetical WorksT.Y. Crowell & Company, 1895 - 800 pages |
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Page iv
... live there for several years . That little plan was abandoned , owing to the death of his oldest daughter , Barbara , a beautiful little girl of five . He took his family to Sloperton Cottage , near the estate of his friend , Lord ...
... live there for several years . That little plan was abandoned , owing to the death of his oldest daughter , Barbara , a beautiful little girl of five . He took his family to Sloperton Cottage , near the estate of his friend , Lord ...
Page 16
... live , That little hour to bliss I ' d give . ODE VIII.2 I CARE not for the idle state Of Persia's king , the rich , the great : 3 I envy not the monarch's throne , Nor wish the treasured gold my own . But oh ! be mine the rosy wreath ...
... live , That little hour to bliss I ' d give . ODE VIII.2 I CARE not for the idle state Of Persia's king , the rich , the great : 3 I envy not the monarch's throne , Nor wish the treasured gold my own . But oh ! be mine the rosy wreath ...
Page 35
... live , Those joys that love alone can give . ODE XXXVII.2 ' T WAS night , and many a circling bowl Had deeply warmed my thirsty soul ; As lulled in slumber I was laid , Bright visions o'er my fancy played . With maidens , blooming as ...
... live , Those joys that love alone can give . ODE XXXVII.2 ' T WAS night , and many a circling bowl Had deeply warmed my thirsty soul ; As lulled in slumber I was laid , Bright visions o'er my fancy played . With maidens , blooming as ...
Page 40
... live my follies o'er again ! ODE XLVIII . WHEN my thirsty soul I steep , Every sorrow ' s lulled to sleep . Talk of monarchs ! I am then Richest , happiest , first of men ; Careless o'er my cup I sing , Fancy makes me more than king ...
... live my follies o'er again ! ODE XLVIII . WHEN my thirsty soul I steep , Every sorrow ' s lulled to sleep . Talk of monarchs ! I am then Richest , happiest , first of men ; Careless o'er my cup I sing , Fancy makes me more than king ...
Page 54
... live again in blissful dreaming ! 1 1 Antipater Sidonius , the author of this epi- gram , lived , according to Vossius , " de Poetis Græcis , " in the second year of the 169th Olym- piad . He appears , from what Cicero and Quin- tilian ...
... live again in blissful dreaming ! 1 1 Antipater Sidonius , the author of this epi- gram , lived , according to Vossius , " de Poetis Græcis , " in the second year of the 169th Olym- piad . He appears , from what Cicero and Quin- tilian ...
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Common terms and phrases
Achilles Tatius Anacreon ancient Bacchus bard beam beautiful beneath bless blest bliss bloom blushing bowers breath bright brow burning called Catullus charms Cicero Cupid dance dark dear death divine dream e'er earth Epicurus epigram eyes fair fancy feel fire flame flowers fond friends glory glow grace hath heart heaven hope hour Irish King kiss LALLA ROOKH light lips live look Lord Love's lover lute lyre maid morning ne'er never night nymph o'er once OVID Persian Pindar Plato Plutarch poem poet rose round Sappho shade shed shine shone sigh sing sleep smile song soul sparkling spirit star sung sweet tears tell thee there's thine things thought thro throne turn Twixt wave weep Whig wild wine wings young youth δὲ καὶ τὸ
Popular passages
Page 241 - When day, with farewell beam, delays Among the opening clouds of even, And we can almost think we gaze Through golden vistas into heaven,— Those hues, that make the sun's decline So soft, so radiant, Lord ! are thine.
Page 178 - BELIEVE ME, IF ALL THOSE ENDEARING YOUNG CHARMS. BEI.IF.VE me, if all those endearing young charms, Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms, Like fairy-gifts fading away, Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart Would entwine itself verdantly still.
Page 190 - Left blooming alone ; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone ; No flower of her kindred, No rose-bud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, Or give sigh for sigh. 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.
Page 153 - Why should we yet our sail unfurl? There is not a breath the blue wave to curl; But, when the wind blows off the shore, Oh! sweetly we'll rest our weary oar. Blow, breezes, blow, the stream runs fast, The Rapids are near and the daylight's past. Utawas' tide ! this trembling moon Shall see us float over thy surges soon.
Page 243 - 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. But Thou wilt heal that broken heart, Which, like the plants that throw Their fragrance from the wounded part, Breathes sweetness out of woe.
Page 153 - Rapids are near and the day-light 's past ! -Why should we yet our sail unfurl? There is not a breath the blue wave to curl! But, when the wind blows off the shore, Oh ! sweetly we'll rest our weary oar. Blow, breezes, blow, the stream runs fast, The Rapids are near and the day-light 's past ! Utawas...
Page 468 - And ruder words will soon rush in To spread the breach that words begin ; And eyes forget the gentle ray They wore in courtship's smiling day ; And voices lose the tone that shed A tenderness round all they said; Till fast declining, one by one, The sweetnesses of love are gone...
Page 244 - 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.
Page 464 - WHO has not heard of the Vale of CASHMERE, With its roses, the brightest that earth ever gave, * Its temples, and grottos, and fountains as clear As the love-lighted eyes that hang over their wave...
Page 197 - Harp of my country ! in darkness I found thee, The cold chain of silence had hung o'er thee long, When proudly, my own Island Harp ! I unbound thee, And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song...