36 quotes
Oh! if there be, on this earthly sphere,
A boon, an offering Heaven holds dear,
'Tis the last libation Liberty draws
From the heart that bleeds and breaks in her cause!
Lalla Rookh (1817)
Oh, colder than the wind that freezes
Founts, that but now in sunshine play'd,
Is that congealing pang which seizes
The trusting bosom, when betray'd.
Lalla Rookh (1817)
Paradise itself were dim
And joyless, if not shared with him!
Lalla Rookh (1817)
As sunshine broken in the rill,
Though turned astray, is sunshine still.
Lalla Rookh (1817)
And oh if there be an Elysium on earth,
It is this, it is this!
Lalla Rookh (1817)
And music too—dear music! that can touch
Beyond all else the soul that loves it much—
Now heard far off, so far as but to seem
Like the faint, exquisite music of a dream.
Lalla Rookh (1817)
Oh for a tongue to curse the slave
Whose treason, like a deadly blight,
Comes o'er the councils of the brave,
And blasts them in their hour of might!
Lalla Rookh (1817)
There's a bliss beyond all that the minstrel has told,
When two, that are link'd in one heavenly tie,
With heart never changing, and brow never cold,
Love on thro' all ills, and love on till they die.
Lalla Rookh (1817)
Like Dead Sea fruits, that tempt the eye,
But turn to ashes on the lips.
Lalla Rookh (1817)
One morn a Peri at the gate
Of Eden stood disconsolate.
Lalla Rookh (1817)
Farewell, farewell to thee, Araby's daughter!
Thus warbled a Peri beneath the dark sea.
Lalla Rookh (1817)
There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream,
And the nightingale sings round it all the day long;
In the time of my childhood 'twas like a sweet dream,
To sit in the roses and hear the bird's song.
Lalla Rookh (1817)
Beholding heaven, and feeling hell.
Lalla Rookh (1817)
Blest power of sunshine!—genial day,
What balm, what life is in thy ray!
To feel there is such real bliss,
That had the world no joy but this,
To sit in sunshine calm and sweet,—
It were a world too exquisite
For man to leave it for the gloom,
The deep, cold shadow, of the tomb.
Lalla Rookh (1817)
And see—the Sun himself!—on wings
Of glory up the East he springs.
Angel of Light! who from the time
Those heavens began their march sublime,
Hath first of all the starry choir
Trod in his Maker's steps of fire!
Lalla Rookh (1817)
With what a deep devotedness of woe
I wept thy absence—o'er and o'er again
Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain,
And memory, like a drop that, night and day,
Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away!
Lalla Rookh (1817)