Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt, Հատոր 1 |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 39–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ 10
Such is thy name with this my verse entwined; And long as kinder eyes a look
shall cast On Harold's page, Ianthe's here enshrined Shall thus be first beheld,
forgotten last: My days once number'd, should this homage past Attract thy fairy ...
Such is thy name with this my verse entwined; And long as kinder eyes a look
shall cast On Harold's page, Ianthe's here enshrined Shall thus be first beheld,
forgotten last: My days once number'd, should this homage past Attract thy fairy ...
Էջ 10
Such is thy name with this my verse entwined ; And long as kinder eyes a look
shall cast On Harold ' s page , Ianthe ' s here enshrined Shall thus be first beheld
, forgotten last : My days once number ' d , should this homage ...
Such is thy name with this my verse entwined ; And long as kinder eyes a look
shall cast On Harold ' s page , Ianthe ' s here enshrined Shall thus be first beheld
, forgotten last : My days once number ' d , should this homage ...
Էջ 20
Come hither , hither , my staunch yeoman , 2 Why dost thou look so pale ? Or
dost thou dread a French foeman ? Or shiver at the gale ? ” — • Deem ' st thou I
tremble for my life ? Sir Childe , I ' m not so weak ; But thinking on an absent wife
Will ...
Come hither , hither , my staunch yeoman , 2 Why dost thou look so pale ? Or
dost thou dread a French foeman ? Or shiver at the gale ? ” — • Deem ' st thou I
tremble for my life ? Sir Childe , I ' m not so weak ; But thinking on an absent wife
Will ...
Էջ 33
Here leans the idle shepherd on his crook , And vacant on the rippling waves
doth look , That peaceful still ' twixt bitterest foemen flow ; For proud each peasant
as the noblest duke : Well doth the Spanish hind the difference know ' Twixt him ...
Here leans the idle shepherd on his crook , And vacant on the rippling waves
doth look , That peaceful still ' twixt bitterest foemen flow ; For proud each peasant
as the noblest duke : Well doth the Spanish hind the difference know ' Twixt him ...
Էջ 47
When I recount thy worshippers of yore I tremble , and can only bend the knee ;
Nor raise my voice , nor vainly dare to soar , But gaze beneath thy cloudy canopy
In silent joy to think at last I look on Thee ! 1 LXII . Happier in this than mightiest ...
When I recount thy worshippers of yore I tremble , and can only bend the knee ;
Nor raise my voice , nor vainly dare to soar , But gaze beneath thy cloudy canopy
In silent joy to think at last I look on Thee ! 1 LXII . Happier in this than mightiest ...
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. A romaunt. [With a portrait.] George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Ամբողջությամբ դիտվող - 1842 |
Common terms and phrases
ancient appear Athens bear beauty beneath blood breast called Canto Childe church dark death deep earth fair fall fame feel fire foes French gaze give Greece Greek hand Harold hath heard heart Heaven hills Historical honour hope hour Italy kind lake land late least leave less letter light live look Lord Lord Byron lost memory mind mother mountains Nature never o'er observed once pass perhaps plain poet present received remains rise rock Roman Rome round ruin says scene seems seen shore song soul spirit stands Stanza statue tears temple thee thine things thou thought tomb traveller tree true turn Venice voice walls waters waves whole wild wind young
Սիրված հատվածներ
Էջ 245 - His steps are not upon thy paths— thy fields Are not a spoil for him— thou dost arise And shake him from thee ; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth — there let him lay.
Էջ 127 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, — alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass...
Էջ 124 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gather'd then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush!
Էջ 247 - twas a pleasing fear; For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane, — as I do here.
Էջ 158 - Could I embody and unbosom now That which is most within me — could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings, strong or weak, All that I would have sought, and all I seek, Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe — into one word, And that one word were Lightning, I would speak ; But as it is, I live and die unheard, With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword.
Էջ 155 - The sky is changed ! — and such a change ! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder...
Էջ 230 - And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him— he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won. He heard it, but he heeded not— his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away...
Էջ 115 - Is THY face like thy mother's, my fair child! Ada ! sole daughter of my house and heart ? When last I saw thy young blue eyes they smiled, And then we parted, — not as now we part, But with a hope. — Awaking with a start, The waters heave around me ; and on high The winds lift up their voices: I depart, Whither I know not; but the hour's gone by, When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.
Էջ 153 - This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction ; once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a Sister's voice reproved, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved. t-XXXVI. It is the hush of night...
Էջ 208 - Alas ! the lofty city ! and alas ! The trebly hundred triumphs ! and the day When Brutus made the dagger's edge surpass The conqueror's sword in bearing fame away ! Alas, for Tully's voice, and Virgil's lay, And Livy's pictured page ! — but these shall be Her resurrection • all beside — decay. Alas, for Earth, for never shall we see That brightness in her eye she bore when Rome was free...
Բիբլիոգրաֆիական տվյալներ
| Վերնագիր | Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt, Հատոր 1 Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt, George Gordon Byron Baron Byron |
| Հեղինակ | George Gordon Byron Baron Byron |
| Հրատարակիչ | J. Murray, 1837 |
| Original from | Հարվարդի համալսարան |
| Digitized | 25 Փետրվար 2008 |
| Length | 329 էջ |
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