The works of Thomas Moore, comprehending all his melodies, ballads, etc, Volume 2

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1823
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Page 262 - FAINTLY as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time. Soon as the woods on shore look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn. Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, The Rapids are near and the daylight's past.
Page 46 - 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,
Page 185 - ALONE by the Schuylkill a wanderer roved, And bright were its flowery banks to his eye ; But far, very far were the friends that he loved. And he gazed on its flowery banks with a sigh ! Oh Nature ! though blessed and bright are thy rays, O'er the brow of creation enchantingly thrown, Yet faint are they all to the lustre that plays In a smile from the heart that is dearly our own ! Nor long did the soul of the stranger remain...
Page 268 - I dreamt not then that, ere the rolling year Had fill'd its circle, I should wander here In musing awe ; should tread this wondrous world, See all its store of inland waters hurl'd In one vast volume down Niagara's steep, Or calm behold them, in transparent sleep, Where the blue hills of old Toronto shed Their evening shadows o'er Ontario's bed...
Page 263 - The rapids arc near and the daylight's past. Why should we yet our sail unfurl? There is not a breath the blue wave to curl, But, when the wind blows off the shore, Oh, sweetly we'll rest our weary oar. Blow, breezes, blow, the stream runs fast, The rapids are near and the daylight's past. Utawas
Page 242 - I KNEW by the smoke, that so gracefully curled Above the green elms, that a cottage was near, And I said, " If there's peace to be found in the world, A heart that is humble might hope for it here...
Page 224 - I believe this is the finest confluence in the world. The two rivers are much of the same breadth, each about half a league ; but the Missouri is by far the most rapid, and seems to enter the Mississippi like a conqueror, through which it carries its white waves to the opposite shore without mixing them : afterwards it gives its colour to the Mississippi, which it never loses again, but carries quite down to the sea."— Letter xxvii.
Page 262 - I remember when we have entered, at sunset, upon one of those beautiful lakes, into which the St. Lawrence so grandly and unexpectedly opens, I have heard this simple air with a pleasure which the finest compositions of the first masters have never given me...
Page 286 - But eloquence glows on your lip When you swear that you'll love me for ever. Thus you see what a brilliant alliance Of arts is assembled in you, — A course of more exquisite science Man never need wish to pursue.
Page 47 - When the footstep of death is near !" Away to the Dismal Swamp he speeds — His path was rugged and sore, Through tangled juniper, beds of reeds, Through many a fen, where the serpent feeds, And man never trod before ! And when on the earth he sunk to sleep, If slumber his eyelids knew, He lay, where the deadly vine doth weep Its venomous tear, and nightly steep The flesh with blistering dew ! And near him the she-wolf...

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