Autres éditions - Tout afficher
Adah Anah art thou aught bear beauty behold beneath blood bosom breast breath brow Byron Cæs Cain Calmar Childe Harold dare dark dead dear death deeds deep Doge dost dread dream earth eternal fair fame fate father fear feel gaze Giaour glory grave Greece hand hath hear heart heaven honour hope hour Iden Juan king Lady less Lioni live look look'd lord Lucifer Marino Faliero Michel Steno Morgante mortal Myrrha ne'er never night o'er once PANIA pass'd passion poem SARDANAPALUS satraps scarce scene seem'd shore Sieg Siegendorf sigh sire slave sleep smile song soul spirit Stral strange sweet sword tears thee thine things Thomas Moore thou art thou hast thought turn'd Venice voice wave weep words youth
Page 220 - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen; Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
Page 36 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage-bell; But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!
Page 220 - And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride : And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail ; And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ; And the...
Page 37 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness ; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated ; who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise...
Page 80 - Thy waters wash'd them power while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts: — not so thou; Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves' play, Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow: Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Page 47 - The sky is changed! - and such a change! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!
Page 80 - t was a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.
Page 80 - His steps are not upon thy paths — thy fields Are not a spoil for him — thou dost arise And shake him from thee ; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering, in thy playful spray, And howling, to his gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth : there let him lay.
Page 37 - Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, — alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valour, rolling on the foe And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low.