Irish melodies and Songs

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Routledge, 1874 - 144 oldal
 

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122. oldal - This world is all a fleeting show For man's illusion given ; The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, Deceitful shine, deceitful flow, — There's nothing true but Heaven...
122. oldal - When youthful spring around us breathes, Thy spirit warms her fragrant sigh ; And every flower the summer wreathes Is born beneath that kindling eye. Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are thine.
121. oldal - God, the life and light Of all this wondrous world we, see ; Its glow by day, its smile by night, Are but reflections caught from thee; Where'er we turn, thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are thine! When day, with farewell beam, delays Among the opening clouds of even, And we can almost think we gaze Through golden vistas into heaven, Those hues, that make the sun's decline So soft, so radiant, Lord!
133. oldal - Praise to the Conqueror, praise to the Lord, His word was our arrow, His breath was our sword! Who shall return to tell Egypt the story Of those she sent forth in the hour of her pride ? For the Lord hath looked out from His pillar of glory, And all her brave thousands are dashed in the tide. Sound the loud timbrel o'er Egypt's dark sea! Jehovah has triumphed ! His people are free ! Thomas Moore.
132. oldal - And Miriam the prophetess, the sister of Aaron, took a timbrel in her hand ; and all the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances. And Miriam answered them, Sing ye to the LORD, for he hath triumphed gloriously ; the horse and his rider hath he thrown into the sea.
17. 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.
135. oldal - ... and it came between the camp of the Egyptians and the camp of Israel; and it was a cloud and darkness to them, but it gave light by night to these: so that the one came not near the other all the night.
48. oldal - Music ! oh how faint, how weak, Language fades before thy spell ! Why should Feeling ever speak, When thou canst breathe her soul so well ? Friendship's balmy words may feign, Love's are ev'n more false than they ; Oh ! 'tis only Music's strain Can sweetly soothe, and not betray ! IT IS NOT THE TEAR AT THIS MOMENT SHED.
68. oldal - See They spring for me, Those leafy gems of morning ! ' Says Love, ' No no, For me they grow, My fragrant path adorning.
122. oldal - ... o'ershadows all the earth and skies like some dark beauteous bird whose plume is sparkling with unnumbered eyes that sacred gloom those fires divine so grand so countless Lord are thine...

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