The Works of Thomas Moore, Esq, Volume 3 |
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Page 12
... sound that charms The war - steed's wakening ears— Oh - many a mother folds her arms Round her boy - soldier , when that sound she 12 MELODIES .
... sound that charms The war - steed's wakening ears— Oh - many a mother folds her arms Round her boy - soldier , when that sound she 12 MELODIES .
Page 13
Thomas Moore. Round her boy - soldier , when that sound she hears , And , tho ' her fond heart sinks with fears , Is proud to feel his young pulse bound With valour's fever at the sound.- See ! from his native hills afar The rude ...
Thomas Moore. Round her boy - soldier , when that sound she hears , And , tho ' her fond heart sinks with fears , Is proud to feel his young pulse bound With valour's fever at the sound.- See ! from his native hills afar The rude ...
Page 14
... sound more grateful to the ear Of HIM who made all harmony , Than the blest sound of fetters breaking , And the first hymn , that man awaking From slavery's slumber , breathes to Liberty . ( Spanish Patriot's Song . ) Hark ! from Spain ...
... sound more grateful to the ear Of HIM who made all harmony , Than the blest sound of fetters breaking , And the first hymn , that man awaking From slavery's slumber , breathes to Liberty . ( Spanish Patriot's Song . ) Hark ! from Spain ...
Page 43
... sound through life we stray . The beams that flash on the oar awhile , As we row along through waves so clear , Illumine its spray , like the fleeting smile That shines o'er sorrow's tear . Nothing is lost on him that sees With an eye ...
... sound through life we stray . The beams that flash on the oar awhile , As we row along through waves so clear , Illumine its spray , like the fleeting smile That shines o'er sorrow's tear . Nothing is lost on him that sees With an eye ...
Page 44
... sound through life we stray . SAYS SAMMY , THE TAILOR , TO ME . SAYS Sammy , the tailor , to me , As he sat with his spindles crossways , " Tis bekase I'm a poet you see , " That I kiver my head with green baise ! " So , says I , " For ...
... sound through life we stray . SAYS SAMMY , THE TAILOR , TO ME . SAYS Sammy , the tailor , to me , As he sat with his spindles crossways , " Tis bekase I'm a poet you see , " That I kiver my head with green baise ! " So , says I , " For ...
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.