The Works of Thomas Moore: Epistles, odes, and other poems1823 |
この書籍内から
検索結果1-5 / 35
16 ページ
... Hath hung its shade on Pico's height , * Where dimly , ' mid the dusk , he towers , And , scowling at this Heaven of light , Exults to see the infant storm Cling darkly round his giant form ! Now , could I range those verdant isles ...
... Hath hung its shade on Pico's height , * Where dimly , ' mid the dusk , he towers , And , scowling at this Heaven of light , Exults to see the infant storm Cling darkly round his giant form ! Now , could I range those verdant isles ...
25 ページ
... hath dwelt so long , Let me , in that aspiring day , Cast every lingering stain away , And , panting for thy purer air , Fly up at once and fix me there ! VOL . II . EPISTLE II . ΤΟ MISS M- -E . TO MISS AND OTHER POEMS . 25.
... hath dwelt so long , Let me , in that aspiring day , Cast every lingering stain away , And , panting for thy purer air , Fly up at once and fix me there ! VOL . II . EPISTLE II . ΤΟ MISS M- -E . TO MISS AND OTHER POEMS . 25.
30 ページ
... , and soul ! Far from the shocks of Europe ; far From every wild , elliptic star That , shooting with a devious fire , Kindled by Heaven's avenging ire , So oft hath into chaos hurl'd The systems of the 30 EPISTLES , ODES ,
... , and soul ! Far from the shocks of Europe ; far From every wild , elliptic star That , shooting with a devious fire , Kindled by Heaven's avenging ire , So oft hath into chaos hurl'd The systems of the 30 EPISTLES , ODES ,
31 ページ
Thomas Moore. So oft hath into chaos hurl'd The systems of the ancient world ! The warrior here , in arms no inore , Thinks of the toil , the conflict o'er , And glorying in the rights they won For hearth and altar , sire and son ...
Thomas Moore. So oft hath into chaos hurl'd The systems of the ancient world ! The warrior here , in arms no inore , Thinks of the toil , the conflict o'er , And glorying in the rights they won For hearth and altar , sire and son ...
32 ページ
... Hath painted to my sanguine eye Of man's new world of liberty ! Oh ! ask me not if Truth will seal The reveries of Fancy's zeal , If yet my charmed eyes behold These features of an age of gold- No - yet , alas ! no gleaming trace ...
... Hath painted to my sanguine eye Of man's new world of liberty ! Oh ! ask me not if Truth will seal The reveries of Fancy's zeal , If yet my charmed eyes behold These features of an age of gold- No - yet , alas ! no gleaming trace ...
多く使われている語句
Achilles Tatius ancient ARISTIPPUS ARISTOTLE bard beam beauty beneath Bermuda blessed blest bliss bloom blush bosom bower breast breath breeze bright brow burning charm cheek CICERO clime dear Dismal Swamp Dithyrambic divine dream earth Epicurean Epicurus fair fancy feel fire flame flowers glow grace hath heart Heaven heavenly heptachord hour hung isle JOSEPH ATKINSON kiss Lady lamp languid Leontium light look look'd lover lyre magic maid Mamurra mingle morning murmurs ne'er never night nymph o'er PAULUS SILENTIARIUS PAUSANIAS philosophers Pindar Plato play'd PLUTARCH pure Pythagoras rapture repose round roves says seem'd shade shed shine sigh sigh'd sleep smile soft song soul spirit spring steal Stoics stole sweet sweetly tear tell thee thine thou thought trace Twas twine warm wave weep wing δε και μεν τε ΤΟ
人気のある引用
266 ページ - 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.2 Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, The Rapids are near, and the daylight's past!
47 ページ - Away to the Dismal Swamp he speeds — His path was rugged and sore, Through tangled juniper, beds of reeds, Through many a fen, where the serpent feeds, And man never trod before ! And when on the earth he sunk to sleep, If slumber his eyelids knew, He lay, where the deadly vine doth weep Its venomous tear, and nightly steep The flesh with blistering dew ! And near him the she-wolf...
187 ページ - Oh Nature ! though blessed and bright are thy rays, O'er the brow of creation enchantingly thrown, Yet faint are they all to the lustre that plays In a smile from the heart that is dearly our own ! Nor long did the soul of the stranger remain...
183 ページ - How shall we rank thee upon glory's page, Thou more than soldier, and just less than sage? All thou hast been reflects less fame on thee, Far less than all thou hast forborne to be!
138 ページ - And ev'n that cheek of roseate hue, — To lose it, Cloe, scarce would kill me. That snowy neck I ne'er should miss, However much I've rav'd about it ; And sweetly as that lip can kiss, I think I could exist without it.
272 ページ - I dreamt not then that, ere the rolling year Had fill'd its circle, I should wander here In musing awe ; should tread this wondrous world, See all its store of inland waters hurl'd In one vast volume down Niagara's steep, Or calm behold them, in transparent sleep, Where the blue hills of old Toronto shed Their evening shadows o'er Ontario's bed...
266 ページ - ... upon one of those beautiful lakes, into which the St. Lawrence so grandly and unexpectedly opens, I have heard this simple air with a pleasure which the finest compositions of the first masters have never given me ; and now there is not a note of it which does not recall to my memory the dip of our oars in the St. Lawrence, the flight of our boat down the Rapids, and all those new and fanciful impressions to which my heart was alive during the whole of this very interesting voyage.
246 ページ - I KNEW, by the smoke that so gracefully curled Above the green elms, that a cottage was near, And I said, "If there's peace to be found in the world, A heart that was humble might hope for it here...
152 ページ - Long has the love of gold, that meanest rage, And latest folly of man's sinking age, Which, rarely venturing in the van of life, While nobler passions wage their heated strife, Comes skulking last, with selfishness and fear, And dies, collecting lumber in the rear...
267 ページ - The rapids arc 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