The works of Thomas Moore, 第 16 卷

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第 458 頁 - To things ye knew not of, — were closely wed To musty laws lined out with wretched rule And compass vile; so that ye taught a school Of dolts to smooth, inlay, and clip, and fit, Till, like the certain wands of Jacob's wit, Their verses tallied. Easy was the task: A thousand handicraftsmen wore the mask Of Poesy.
第 42 頁 - My sister ! my sweet sister ! if a name Dearer and purer were, it should be thine ; Mountains and seas divide us, but I claim No tears, but tenderness to answer mine : Go where I will, to me thou art the same — A loved regret which I would not resign. There yet are two things in my destiny, — A world to roam through, and a home with thee.
第 46 頁 - For thee, my own sweet sister, in thy heart I know myself secure, as thou in mine ; We were and are — I am, even as thou art — Beings who ne'er each other can resign ; It is the same, together or apart, From life's commencement to its slow decline We are entwined. — let death come slow or fast, The tie which bound the first endures the last ! LINES ON HEARING THAT LADY BYRON WAS ILL.
第 267 頁 - I am sure my bones would not rest in an English grave, or my clay mix with the earth of that country. I believe the thought would drive me mad on my deathbed, could I suppose that any of my friends would be base enough to convey my carcass back to your soil.
第 220 頁 - He is a person of the most consummate genius, and capable, if he would direct his energies to such an end, of becoming the redeemer of his degraded country. But it is his weakness to be proud...
第 136 頁 - Of the embrace of angels, with a sex More beautiful than they, which did draw down The erring spirits who can ne'er return.
第 14 頁 - The music of the cows' bells ( for their wealth, like the patriarchs', is catile) in the pastures, which reach to a height far above any mountains in Britain, and the shepherds shouting to us from crag to crag, and playing on their reeds where the steeps appeared almost inaccessible, with the surrounding scenery, realized all that I have ever heard or imagined of a pastoral existence : — much more so than Greece or Asia Minor, for there we are a little too much of the sabre and...
第 261 頁 - What if thy deep and ample stream should be A mirror of my heart, where she may read The thousand thoughts I now betray to thee, Wild as thy wave, and headlong as thy speed ! What do I say, a mirror of my heart?
第 45 頁 - The world is all before me; I but ask Of Nature that with which she will comply — It is but in her summer's sun to bask, To mingle with the quiet of her sky, To see her gentle face without a mask, And never gaze on it with apathy.
第 268 頁 - Venice gave His body to that pleasant country's earth, And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, Under whose colours he had fought so long.

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