Mit mondanak mások - Írjon ismertetőt
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bard beam beauty Bermuda bless blest bliss bloom blows bosom breath breezes bright called calm charm clouds cold dark dear death dream Erin eyes faded fair fall fame Farewell fate feel flame flowers forget friends girl give glory gold gone green hand harp hath heart heaven hope hour Ireland Irish isle keep LADY leaves light lips live looks lost lov'd love's lover meet moon morning ne'er never night o'er once peace pleasure pure remember rest rose round saint shade Shamrock shed shine shore sigh sing sleep smile song soon sorrow soul spirit star steal story sweet tear tell thee thine thou thou art thought true turns Twas warm waters waves weep wild wind woman written young youth
109. oldal - DEAR 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...
116. oldal - They made her a grave, too cold and damp "For a soul so warm and true; "And she's gone to the Lake of the Dismal Swamp, "Where, all night long, by a fire-fly lamp, "She paddles her white canoe. "And her fire-fly lamp I soon shall see, "And her paddle I soon shall hear; "Long and loving our life shall be, "And I'll hide the maid in a cypress tree, "When the footstep of death is near.
64. oldal - SHE IS FAR FROM THE LAND She is far from the land where her youn-g hero sleeps, And lovers are round her, sighing: But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps, For her heart in his grave is lying.
100. oldal - Her smile when Beauty granted, I hung with gaze enchanted, Like him the Sprite*, Whom maids by night Oft meet in glen that's haunted. Like him, too, Beauty won me, But while her eyes were on me, If once their ray Was turn'd away, O ! winds could not outrun me.
22. oldal - 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.
62. oldal - Oh, my Nora's gown for me, That floats as wild as mountain breezes, Leaving every beauty free To sink or swell as Heaven pleases. Yes, my Nora Creina, dear, My simple, graceful Nora Creina, Nature's dress Is loveliness — The dress you wear, my Nora Creina. Lesbia hath a wit refined, But when its points are gleaming round us, Who can tell if they're design'd To dazzle merely, or to wound us...
23. oldal - 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.
86. oldal - Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled — You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will, But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
21. oldal - So lone and lovely, through this bleak way ? Are Erin's sons so good or so cold As not to be tempted by woman or gold ? " "Sir Knight ! I feel not the least alarm, No son of Erin will offer me harm : For, though they love women and golden store, Sir Knight ! they love honour and virtue more.