The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore, 2. kötet

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Longman, Orme, Brown, Green, and Longmans, 1840
 

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324. oldal - FAINTLY as tolls the evening chime Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time. Soon as the woods on shore look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn. "Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, 'The rapids are near and the daylight's past.
224. 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 firefly lamp, She paddles her white canoe. " And her firefly 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...
101. oldal - And few have e'er deceived like thee, Alas ! deceived me too severely ! Fare thee well ! yet think awhile On one whose bosom bleeds to doubt thee ; Who now would rather trust that smile, And die with thee than live without thee...
324. oldal - Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, The rapids are near and the daylight'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 daylight's past. Utawas
315. oldal - I believe this is the finest confluence in the world. The two rivers are much of the same breadth, each about half a league ; but the Missouri Is by far the most rapid, and seems to enter the Mississippi like a conqueror, through which it carries its white waves to the opposite shore, without mixing them ; afterwards it gives its color to the Mississippi, which it never loses again, but carries quite down to the sea."— Letter xxvii.
292. oldal - And all the piebald polity that reigns In free confusion o'er Columbia's plains? To think that man, thou just and gentle God...
317. oldal - Not with more joy the lonely exile scann'd The writing traced upon the desert's sand, Where his lone heart but little hop'd to find One trace of life, one stamp of human kind, f Than did I hail the pure, th...

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