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Airs appears beautiful Bermuda Bessy Byron called Catholic character claim close dear Diary Dublin early edition effect English expressed fame father feel gave give going hands happy heart honour hope interest Ireland Irish Melodies Italy Kilkenny kind Lady Lalla later least less letter light lines lived London Longmans look Lord John Lord John Russell lyric matter means meet Memoirs mind months Moore Moore's mother Music natural never notes offered once passage period pleasure poem poet poetry political Power present probably Protestant publication published references returned Russell Scott seems seen showed sister society song spirit success suggestion taste thee thing Thomas thought tion took true turn verse volume whole wife writes written wrote young
Népszerű szakaszok
5. oldal - When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my epitaph be written.
164. oldal - Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory — Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.
5. oldal - Rebellion ! foul, dishonouring word, Whose wrongful blight so oft has stain'd The holiest cause that tongue or sword Of mortal ever lost or gain'd. How many a spirit, born to bless, Hath sunk beneath that withering name, Whom but a day's, an hour's success Had wafted to eternal fame...
5. oldal - She sings the wild song of her dear native plains, Every note which he loved awaking — Ah '. little they think, who delight in her strains, How the heart of the minstrel is breaking...
166. oldal - That ev'n in thy mirth it will steal from thee still. Dear Harp of my Country ! farewell to thy numbers, This sweet wreath of song is the last we shall twine ! Go, sleep with the sunshine of Fame on thy slumbers, Till touch'd by some hand less unworthy than mine ; If the pulse of the patriot, soldier, or lover, Have throbb'd at our lay, 'tis thy glory alone ; I was but as the wind, passing heedlessly over, And all the wild sweetness I wak'd was thy own.
122. oldal - Here's a sigh to those who love me, And a smile to those who hate ; And whatever sky's above me, Here's a heart for every fate. Though the ocean roar around me, Yet it still shall bear me on ; Though a desert should surround me, It hath springs that may be won.
164. oldal - Let Fate do her worst ; there are relics of joy, Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy ; Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care, And bring back the features that joy used to wear.
164. oldal - THE time I've lost in wooing, In watching and pursuing The light that lies In woman's eyes, Has been my heart's undoing. Though Wisdom oft has sought me, I scorn'd the lore she brought me, My only books Were woman's looks, And folly's all they've taught me.
78. oldal - 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...
166. 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...
Bibliográfiai információk
| Cím | English Men of Letters |
| Szerző | Thomas Moore |
| Kiadás éve: | 1905 |
| Idézet exportálása | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |