The Works of Thomas Moore, Esq, Volume 3G. Smith, 1825 - 6 pages |
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Page 19
... turn and rest thy sorrow , Thou'lt go to Agnes ' Shrine to - morrow . Third Voice . Good Stranger ! when my Beads I'm telling , My Saint shall bless thy leafy dwelling . Trio . Strew then , Oh ! strew our bed of Rushes , Here we shall ...
... turn and rest thy sorrow , Thou'lt go to Agnes ' Shrine to - morrow . Third Voice . Good Stranger ! when my Beads I'm telling , My Saint shall bless thy leafy dwelling . Trio . Strew then , Oh ! strew our bed of Rushes , Here we shall ...
Page 20
... turn To tears , when thou art nigh . But between love , and wine and sleep , So busy a life I live , That even the time it would take to weep , Is more than my heart can give . Then bid me not to dispair and pine , Fanny , dearest of ...
... turn To tears , when thou art nigh . But between love , and wine and sleep , So busy a life I live , That even the time it would take to weep , Is more than my heart can give . Then bid me not to dispair and pine , Fanny , dearest of ...
Page 35
... faintly say , " Oh ! soon return . " If ever yet my bosom found Its thoughts a moment turn'd from thee , " Twas when the combat rag'd around , And brave men look'd to me . But , though ' mid battle's wild alarm Love's gentle MELODIES . 35.
... faintly say , " Oh ! soon return . " If ever yet my bosom found Its thoughts a moment turn'd from thee , " Twas when the combat rag'd around , And brave men look'd to me . But , though ' mid battle's wild alarm Love's gentle MELODIES . 35.
Page 37
... turns most sweet , I scarce can call it mine . But when to me alone Your secret tears you show , O then I feel those tears my own , And claim them while they flow . Then still with bright looks bless the cold , the free ; The gay , Give ...
... turns most sweet , I scarce can call it mine . But when to me alone Your secret tears you show , O then I feel those tears my own , And claim them while they flow . Then still with bright looks bless the cold , the free ; The gay , Give ...
Page 38
... turns to tears . Then still with bright looks bless The gay , the cold , the free ; Give smiles to those who love you less , But keep your tears for me . FANNY WAS IN THE GROVE . FANNY was in the grove , And Lubin her boy was nigh ; Her ...
... turns to tears . Then still with bright looks bless The gay , the cold , the free ; Give smiles to those who love you less , But keep your tears for me . FANNY WAS IN THE GROVE . FANNY was in the grove , And Lubin her boy was nigh ; Her ...
Common terms and phrases
battle of Clontarf beam beauty beneath Bermuda blest bliss bloom blush bosom bower bowl breath breath'd bright brow calm chain charm cloud cold dark daylight dies dear dearest death Dismal Swamp dream e'en e'er earth Erin ev'ry eyes fade fair fame Farewell feel flame flowers Glendalough glory glowing harp hath heart heaven Hero's heart hope hour Ireland Irish Irish poetry isle Kilkenny kiss leaves Lesbia light lips live look'd looks lov'd Love's lover lute maid Merrily oh moonlight morning ne'er never night o'er once Planxty Red Branch remember roses round scribble-hy shade shed shine sigh sing sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sparkle spirit star steal sweet tears tell thee there's thine THOMAS MOORE thou art thou hast thought Twas twill Voice wander warm wave weep wild wind wings young youth
Popular passages
Page 100 - THE harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls, As if that soul were fled. — So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts, that once beat high for praise, Now feel that pulse no more.
Page 243 - When night, with wings of starry gloom, 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.
Page 90 - 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 fire-fly lamp, She paddles her white canoe. "And her fire-fly 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.
Page 77 - And oh ! if there be an elysium on earth, It is this, it is this...
Page 98 - Nature embellish'd the tint Of thy fields, and thy mountains so fair, Did she ever intend that a tyrant should print The footstep of slavery there? No! Freedom, whose smile we shall never resign, Go, tell our invaders, the Danes, That 'tis sweeter to bleed for an age at thy shrine, Than to sleep but a moment in chains.
Page 101 - OH ! BREATHE NOT HIS NAME. OH ! breathe not his name, let it sleep in the shade, Where cold and unhonour'd his relics are laid ; Sad, silent, and dark be the tears that we shed, As the night-dew that falls on the grass o'er his head.
Page 83 - And a dew was distill'd from their flowers, that gave All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone. Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, An essence that breathes of it many a year...
Page 259 - Oft in the stilly night Ere slumber's chain has bound me, Fond Memory brings the light Of other days around me : The smiles, the tears Of boyhood's years, The words of love then spoken ; The eyes that shone, Now dimm'd and gone, The cheerful hearts now broken...
Page 102 - With thee were the dreams of my earliest love ; Every thought of my reason was thine : In my last humble prayer to the Spirit above, Thy name shall be mingled with mine...
Page 174 - 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.