The Works of Thomas Moore, Esq, Том 1

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Сторінка 232 - 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...
Сторінка 240 - Alas ! — how light a cause may move Dissension between hearts that love ! Hearts that the world in vain had tried, And sorrow but more closely tied ; That stood the storm, when waves were rough, Yet in a sunny hour fall off, Like ships that have gone down at sea, When heaven was all tranquillity...
Сторінка 240 - 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...
Сторінка 156 - 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 ! Now too — the joy most like divine Of all I ever dreamt or knew. To see thee, hear thee, call thee mine, — Oh, misery! must I lose that too? Yet go — on peril's brink we meet ; — Those frightful rocks — that treacherous sea — No, never come again — though sweet, Though heaven, it may be death to thee.
Сторінка 117 - Go, wing thy flight from star to star, From world to luminous world, as far As the universe spreads its flaming wall : Take all the pleasures of all the spheres, And multiply each through endless years, One minute of Heaven is worth them all...
Сторінка 116 - Mid flowers that never shall fade or fall ; Though mine are the gardens of earth and sea, And the stars themselves have flowers for me, One blossom of heaven out-blooms them all...
Сторінка 64 - And a dew was distill'd from their flowers that gave All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone. Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, , An essence that breathes of it many a year ; Thus bright to my soul, as 'twas then to my eyes, Is that bower on the banks of the calm Bendemeer...
Сторінка 121 - Be this," she cried, as she wing'd her flight, "My welcome gift at the Gates of Light. Though foul are the drops that oft distil On the field of warfare, blood like this, For Liberty shed, so holy is, It would not stain the purest rill, That sparkles among the Bowers of Bliss!
Сторінка 121 - Oh, if there be, on this earthly sphere, A boon, an offering Heaven holds dear, Tis the last libation Liberty draws From the heart that bleeds and breaks in her cause!'
Сторінка 189 - Whose liquid flame is born of them ! When, 'stead of one unchanging breeze, There blow a thousand gentle airs, And each a different perfume bears, As if the loveliest plants and trees Had vassal breezes of their own To watch and wait on them alone, And waft no other breath than theirs : When the blue waters rise and fall, In sleepy sunshine mantling all ; And even that swell the tempest leaves Is like the full and silent heaves Of lovers' hearts when newly blest, Too newly to be quite at rest.

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