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" Like the gale, that sighs along Beds of oriental flowers, Is the grateful breath of song, That once was heard in happier hours ; Fill'd with balm, the gale sighs on, Though the flowers have sunk in death ; So, when pleasure's dream is gone, Its memory... "
Sketches of India: With Notes on the Seasons, Scenery, and Society of Bombay ... - Page 189
by Henry Moses - 1750 - 300 pages
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The Rector of Auburn ...

Edward Thompson - 1837 - 778 pages
...again, In faded eyes, that long have wept. Like the gale, that sighs along Beds of oriental flow'rs. Is the grateful breath of song, That once was heard...sunk in death : So when pleasure's dream is gone, Its memory lives in music's breath ! Music ! oh ! how faint, how weak, Language fades before thy spell...
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A System of Phrenology

George Combe - Phrenology - 1837 - 740 pages
...ingredient of Wit. In his song on music's powers to awaken the memory, he says : " Like the gale which sighs along Beds of oriental flowers, Is the grateful breath of song That once was heard in happier hoars. Filled with balm, the gale sighs on, When the flowers have sunk in death, So when pleasure's...
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The nabob's wife, by the author of 'Village reminiscences'.

mrs. Monkland - 1837 - 906 pages
...emotion, she breathed forth the following lines, " Like the gale that sighs along Beds of oriental Sowers, Is the grateful breath of song That once was heard in happier hours." Her upturned and gleaming eye and flushed cheek reminded her auditors of the enchantments of an Italian...
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The Phrenological Journal, and Magazine of Moral Science, Volumes 11-12

1838 - 908 pages
...conception combined with this sentiment. (System, 4th edition, Vol. I. p. 422.) " Like the gale that sighs along Beds of oriental flowers, Is the grateful breath of song That once was heard in happier hours." Combe says, truly enough, here is beauty of comparison, but no wit, although the things are essentially...
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The Phrenological Journal, and Magazine of Moral Science, Volume 11

Phrenology - 1838 - 478 pages
...conception combined with this sentiment. (System, 4th edition, Vol. I. p. 422.) " Like the gale that sighs along Beds of oriental flowers, Is the grateful breath of song That once was heard in happier hours." Combe says, truly enough, here is beauty of comparison, but no wit, although the things are essentially...
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The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore: Including His Melodies, Ballads, Etc ...

Thomas Moore - 1838 - 412 pages
...celebrity . Like tho gale that sighs along Bade of oriental flowers, IB the grateful breath of flong, That once was heard in happier hours. Fill'd with balm the gale sighs ÖD, Though the flowers have sunk in dcuth ; So when the Bard of Love i- gone, HU mem'ry lives in Music's...
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The New Monthly Belle Assemblée, Volume 22

Fashion - 474 pages
...fragrant breath of song that once was heard in happier hours ; Filled with balm, the gale sighs on, thongh the flowers have sunk in death, So when pleasure's dream is gone, its memory lives in music's breath.' And of a surety there are those whose memories are recalled, not...
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Elvira, the Nabob's Wife, Volume 2

Mrs. Monkland - 1839 - 216 pages
...trembling with emotion, she breathed forth the following lines, "Like the gale (hat sighs along Bi'ds of oriental flowers, Is the. grateful breath of song That once was heard in happier hours." Her upturned and gleaming eye and flushed cheek reminded her auditors of the enchantments of an Italian...
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The Poetical Works of Thomas Moore, Volume 3

Thomas Moore - 1841 - 396 pages
...have slept ; Kindling former smiles again In faded eyes that long have wept. Like the gale, that sighs along Beds of oriental flowers, Is the grateful breath...sunk in death ; So, when pleasure's dream is gone, Its memory lives in Music's breath. Music, oh how faint, how weak, Language fades before thy spell...
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University Magazine: A Literary and Philosophic Review, Volume 21

1843 - 818 pages
...again In failed eyes that long have wept ! Like the gíile that sighs along Beds of oriental flow'rs, Is the grateful breath of song. That once was heard in happier hours. Filled with balm, the gale sigha on, Though the flowers have sunk in death ; So when pleasure's dream...
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