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... twas to bott— Lung through the casement near . Thy orth try catt The Veure Prophet off Kurusser på Se ZELICA DISCOVERING THE VEILED PROPHET . BY EDWARD CORBOULD . But bark ' —she stops - she listens - dreadful tome " Tit her tormentor's ...
... twas to bott— Lung through the casement near . Thy orth try catt The Veure Prophet off Kurusser på Se ZELICA DISCOVERING THE VEILED PROPHET . BY EDWARD CORBOULD . But bark ' —she stops - she listens - dreadful tome " Tit her tormentor's ...
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... Twas bright , ' twas heavenly , but ' tis past ! " " The Fire - worshippers , p . 217 . 66 THE DEPARTURE OF IRAN . BY EDWARD CORBOULD . Fiercely he broke away , nor stopp'd , Nor look'd - but from the lattice dropp'd Down mid the ...
... Twas bright , ' twas heavenly , but ' tis past ! " " The Fire - worshippers , p . 217 . 66 THE DEPARTURE OF IRAN . BY EDWARD CORBOULD . Fiercely he broke away , nor stopp'd , Nor look'd - but from the lattice dropp'd Down mid the ...
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... twas sacred from that hour ; When thou didst study him till every tone And gesture and dear look became thy own , - Thy voice like his , the changes of his face In thine reflected with still lovelier grace . Like echo , sending back ...
... twas sacred from that hour ; When thou didst study him till every tone And gesture and dear look became thy own , - Thy voice like his , the changes of his face In thine reflected with still lovelier grace . Like echo , sending back ...
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... twas a lustre , strange , unreal , wild ; And when she sung to her lute's touching strain , ' Twas like the notes , half ecstasy , half pain , The bulbul * utters , ere her soul depart , When , vanquish'd by some minstrel's powerful art ...
... twas a lustre , strange , unreal , wild ; And when she sung to her lute's touching strain , ' Twas like the notes , half ecstasy , half pain , The bulbul * utters , ere her soul depart , When , vanquish'd by some minstrel's powerful art ...
Сторінка 33
... Twas from a brilliant banquet , where the sound Of poesy and music breath'd around , Together picturing to her mind and ear The glories of that heav'n , her destin'd sphere , Where all was pure , where every stain that lay Upon the ...
... Twas from a brilliant banquet , where the sound Of poesy and music breath'd around , Together picturing to her mind and ear The glories of that heav'n , her destin'd sphere , Where all was pure , where every stain that lay Upon the ...
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angels Arab AZIM beautiful beneath bird blest bliss blood bowers breath breath'd bright brow Bucharia burning Caliph called Cashmere charm cheek D'Herbelot dark dead dear death deep Delhi dread dream e'er earth EDWARD CORBOULD ev'n eyes FADLADEEN falchion FERAMORZ Ferdosi Ferishta fierce fire flame flowers gardens GAZNA Genii Ghebers gleam glory gold HAFED Haram hath heart Heaven HINDA holy hour hung hyæna India Indian IRAN IRAN's Khorassan King Koran Lahore Lake LALLA ROOKH light lips look look'd lov'd lover lute maid MOKANNA moonlight mountain Naphtha never night NOURMAHAL o'er pass'd PERI Persian Princess pure round ruin'd seem'd shining Shiraz shone sigh skies slave sleep smile soul sound sparkling spirit star stood sunk sweet sword Tahmuras tears thee thine thou throne Tibet Transoxiania trees turn'd twas veil warm wave weep wild wings wretch young youth ZELICA
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Сторінка 377 - Oh! think what the kiss and the smile must be worth When the sigh and the tear are so perfect in bliss, And own if there be- an Elysium on earth, It is this, it is this. Here sparkles the nectar, that, hallow'd by love, Could draw down those angels of old from their sphere,
Сторінка 257 - Comes o'er the councils of the brave, And blasts them in their hour of might ! May Life's unblessed cup for him Be drugg'd with treach'ries to the brim,— With hopes, that but allure to fly, With joys, that vanish while he sips, Like Dead Sea fruit:?, that tempt the eye, But turn to ashes on the lips!
Сторінка 377 - forth, What Spirit the sweets of his Eden would miss ? For, oh! if there be an Elysium on earth, It is this, it is this. The Georgian's song was scarcely mute, When the same measure, sound for sound, Was caught up by another lute, And
Сторінка 167 - Poor race of men!" said the pitying Spirit, " Dearly ye pay for your primal Fall — " Some flow'rets of Eden ye still inherit, " But the trail of the Serpent is over them all!" She wept — the air grew pure and clear Around her, as the bright drops ran; For there's a magic in each tear Such kindly Spirits weep for man
Сторінка 156 - And, as he nearer drew and listen'd To her sad song, a tear-drop glisten'd Within his eyelids, like the spray From Eden's fountain, when it lies On the blue flow'r, which — Bramins say — Blooms nowhere but in Paradise. * " Nymph of a fair but erring line!" Gently he said—" One hope is thine. " 'Tis written in the Book of Fate,
Сторінка 212 - down thy arms of snow, As if to lift him from below! Like her to whom, at dead of night, The bridegroom, with his locks of light, * Came, in the flush of love and pride, And scal'd the terrace of his bride; — When, as she saw him rashly spring, And midway up in danger cling,
Сторінка 68 - her sword, when she would dare " Immortal deeds; but in the bracing air " Of toil,—of temperance,—of that high, rare, " Ethereal virtue, which alone can breathe " Life, health, and lustre into Freedom's wreath. " Who, that surveys this span of earth we press, — " This speck of life in time's great wilderness, " This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas,
Сторінка 164 - Of that Egyptian tide — whose birth Is hidden from the sons of earth Deep in those solitary woods, Where oft the Genii of the Floods Dance round the cradle of their Nile, And hail the new-born Giant's smile. * Thence over EGYPT'S palmy groves, Her grots, and sepulchres of Kings, f The
Сторінка 125 - Literary History of the Middle Ages. * The Greek fire, which was occasionally lent by the emperors to their allies. " It was," says Gibbon, " either launched in redhot balls of stone and iron, or darted in arrows and javelins, twisted round with flax and tow, which had deeply imbibed the inflammable oil.
Сторінка 365 - by me, Can as downy soft and as yielding be As his own white plume, that high amid death Through the field has shone—yet moves with a breath! And, oh, how the eyes of Beauty glisten, When Music has rcach'd her inward soul, Like the silent stars, that wink and listen While Heaven's eternal melodies roll.