Hebrew MelodiesJohn Murray, 1815 - Всего страниц: 53 |
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... are done It is the hour • Song of Saul before his last battle Saul • “ All is vanity , saith the preacher ” When coldness wraps PAGE 5 11 12 13 15 17 19 21 23 2228 8 8 24 26 28 30 Vision of Belshazzar 33 Sun of the sleepless ! 37.
... are done It is the hour • Song of Saul before his last battle Saul • “ All is vanity , saith the preacher ” When coldness wraps PAGE 5 11 12 13 15 17 19 21 23 2228 8 8 24 26 28 30 Vision of Belshazzar 33 Sun of the sleepless ! 37.
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... hour to die ! To soar from earth and find all fears Lost in thy light - Eternity ! II . It must be so : ' tis not for self That we so tremble on the brink ; And striving to o'erleap the gulph , Yet cling to Being's severing link . Oh ...
... hour to die ! To soar from earth and find all fears Lost in thy light - Eternity ! II . It must be so : ' tis not for self That we so tremble on the brink ; And striving to o'erleap the gulph , Yet cling to Being's severing link . Oh ...
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... along , Shall be the battle - word ! Thy fall , the theme of choral song From virgin voices poured ! To weep would do thy glory wrong ; Thou shalt not be deplored . IT IS THE HOUR . IT IS THE HOUR when 22 HEBREW MELODIES .
... along , Shall be the battle - word ! Thy fall , the theme of choral song From virgin voices poured ! To weep would do thy glory wrong ; Thou shalt not be deplored . IT IS THE HOUR . IT IS THE HOUR when 22 HEBREW MELODIES .
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George Gordon Byron Baron Byron. IT IS THE HOUR . IT IS THE HOUR when from the boughs The nightingale's high note is heard ; It is the hour when lovers ' vows Seem sweet in every whispered word ; And gentle winds and waters near Make ...
George Gordon Byron Baron Byron. IT IS THE HOUR . IT IS THE HOUR when from the boughs The nightingale's high note is heard ; It is the hour when lovers ' vows Seem sweet in every whispered word ; And gentle winds and waters near Make ...
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... hour Of pleasure unembittered ; And not a trapping deck'd my power That gall'd not while it glittered . III . The serpent of the field , by art And spells , is won from harming ; But that which coils around the heart , Oh ! who hath ...
... hour Of pleasure unembittered ; And not a trapping deck'd my power That gall'd not while it glittered . III . The serpent of the field , by art And spells , is won from harming ; But that which coils around the heart , Oh ! who hath ...
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behold beneath blood Bonnivard bosom breast breath bright brow Chillon cloud cold Corinth dark Darvell dead death deed deep doom doth dream dungeon earth eternal eyes falchions fame fear feel fell felt gazed Geneve glance glory grave Greece grew hand hath heard heart heaven Hetman hill hope hour knew light limbs look LORD BYRON maid Mariamne Mazeppa Minotti monarch Moslem ne'er never night nought numbers o'er pain Parisina pass'd POEM PRISONER OF CHILLON rolls Romania rose round sate scarce seem'd shines shone shore SIEGE OF CORINTH sigh silent SIR PETER PARKER sire sleep smile song soul sound spirit stars steed stone stood sweet sword tears thee thine things thou art thought thousand turban Turcoman Twas Venice voice wall wandered waves weep wept wild winds wished for wings withered
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Стр. 4 - To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar — for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard ! — May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
Стр. 46 - 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.
Стр. 4 - And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent ! THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.
Стр. 47 - 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. For the angel of death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd; And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still...
Стр. 49 - Though thy slumber may be deep, Yet thy spirit shall not sleep, There are shades which will not vanish, There are thoughts thou canst not banish...
Стр. 14 - Was as a mockery of the tomb, Whose tints as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray ; An eye of most transparent light, That almost made the dungeon bright, And not a word of murmur, not A groan o'er his untimely lot, — A little talk of better days, A little hope my own...
Стр. 52 - TITAN ! to whose immortal eyes The sufferings of mortality, Seen in their sad reality, Were not as things that gods despise ; What was thy pity's recompense ? A silent suffering, and intense ; The rock, the vulture, and the chain, All that the proud can feel of pain...
Стр. 38 - The dread of vanish'd shadows. Are they so ? Is not the past all shadow ! What are they ' Creations of the mind ? The mind can make Substance, and people planets of its own With beings brighter than have been, — and give A breath to forms which can outlive all flesh.
Стр. 37 - A thousand horse, and none to ride ! With flowing tail, and flying mane, Wide nostrils never...
Стр. 40 - Which colour'd all his objects:— he had ceased To live within himself; she was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all: upon a tone, A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow, And his cheek change tempestuously— his heart Unknowing of its cause of agony. But she in these fond feelings had no share: Her sighs were not for him; to her he was Even as a brother— but no more...