Lalla Rookh: An Oriental Romance

Przednia okładka
Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown, 1817 - 405
The daughter of the Mughal emperor is engaged to the young king of Bactria. She goes to meet him, but falls in love with a poet she meets on the way. As Lalla Rookh enters the palace of her bridegroom she is delighted to find that the poet of her affection was none other than the prince to whom she was engaged.

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Strona 295 - WHO has not heard of the Vale of Cashmere, With its roses the brightest that earth ever gave, Its temples, and grottos, and fountains as clear As the love-lighted eyes that hang over their wave...
Strona 157 - There was a time," he said in mild, Heart-humbled tones — " thou blessed child! " When young and haply pure as thou,
Strona 63 - 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.
Strona 154 - Cheer'd by this hope she bends her thither ; — Still laughs the radiant eye of Heaven, Nor have the golden bowers of Even In the rich West begun to wither ; — When, o'er the vale of BALBEC winging Slowly, she sees a child at play, Among the rosy wild flowers singing, As rosy and as wild as they ; Chasing, with eager hands and eyes, The beautiful blue damsel-flies...
Strona 63 - And a dew was distill'd from their flowers, that gave All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone. . Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, An essence that breathes of it many a year...
Strona 159 - While the same sunbeam shines upon The guilty and the guiltless one, And hymns of joy proclaim through Heaven The triumph of a Soul Forgiven...
Strona 151 - Now, upon Syria's land of roses Softly the light of Eve reposes, And, like a glory, the broad sun Hangs over sainted Lebanon ; Whose head in wintry grandeur towers, And whitens with eternal sleet, While summer, in a vale of flowers, Is sleeping rosy at his feet.
Strona 155 - mid the roses lay, She saw a wearied man dismount From his hot steed, and on the brink Of a small imaret's rustic fount Impatient fling him down to drink.
Strona 188 - Oh ! ever thus, from childhood's hour, I've seen my fondest hopes decay ; I never loved a tree or flower, But 'twas the first to fade away. I never nursed a dear gazelle, To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well, And love me, it was sure to die...
Strona 333 - When first on me they breathed and shone ; New, as if brought from other spheres, Yet welcome as if loved for years ! Then fly with me, — if thou hast known No other flame, nor falsely thrown A gem away, that thou hadst sworn Should ever in thy heart be worn. Come, if the love thou hast for me Is pure and fresh as mine for thee, — Fresh as the fountain under ground. When first 'tis by the lapwing...

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