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Könyvek 191 / 41 - 50. könyv a(z) SHE IS FAR FROM THE LAND She is far from the land where her youn-g hero sleeps, And... kifejezésre.
" 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. "
A selection of Irish melodies, songs, and poems - 64. oldal
szerző: Thomas Moore - 1859 - 160 oldal
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

The Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, Science, and Art, 5. kötet

1845
...her a song ! — melody in her heaviness! Often did tin: words of Moore rise into my mind — " Ah ! little they think, who delight in her strains, How the heart of the minstrel is breaking !" One night — I shall never forget it — she was asked to sing one of those beautiful Irish melodies,...

The United Irishmen, their lives and times

Richard Robert Madden - 1846
...omitted. 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...his country he died; They were all that to life had entwined him— Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, Nor long will his love stay behind...

The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon

Washington Irving - 1846 - 336 oldal
...in his grave is lying. She sings the wild songs of her dear native plains, Kvcry note which hc loved awaking — All ! little they think, who delight in...strains, How the heart of the minstrel is breaking 1 He had lived Tor his love — for his country he died, They were all that to life had entwined him...

Practical Elocution: Containing Illustrations of the Principles of Reading ...

Samuel Niles Sweet - 1846 - 312 oldal
...lying, 2. She sings the wild song of her dear native plains, Every note which he lov'd awaking — Ah ! little they think, who delight in her strains, How the heart of the minstrel is breaking. 3. He had liv'd for his love— for his country he died ; They were all that to life had entwin'd him...

The Life and Times of Robert Emmet, Esq

Richard Robert Madden - 1847 - 342 oldal
...omitted. 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, •...his country he died ; They were all that to life had entwined him — Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, Nor long will his love stay behind...

The Elocutionary Reader; Or, Rhetorical Class Book

Hugh Gawthrop - 1847 - 12 oldal
...lying. She sings the wild songs 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! He hod lived for his love — for his country he died, They were all that to life had entwined him—...

Songs of Ireland and Other Lands: Being a Collection of the Most Popular ...

1847
...lying ! 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 ! O He had lived for his love, for his country he died ! They were all that to life had entwined him...

The Patrician, 6. kötet

John Burke, Bernard Burke - 1848
...lying. " She sings the wild songs of her dear native plains, ., Every note which he lov'd awaking ; Ah 1 little they think who delight in her strains, How...his country he died, They were all that to life had entwined him ; Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried, Nor loug will his love stay behind...

North American First Class Reader: The Sixth Book of Tower's Series for ...

David Bates Tower - 1853 - 426 oldal
...lying. " She sings the wild songs of her dear, native plains, Every note which lie loved awaking. Ah ! little they think, who delight in her strains, How the heart of the minstrel is breaking ! " He had lived for his love ; for his country he died , They were all that to life had entwined him . Nor soon...

The Works of Washington Irving, 2. kötet

Washington Irving - 1848
...lying. She sings the wild songs 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! He had lived for his love—for his country he died, They were all that to life had entwined him— Nor soon...




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