Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt, Հատոր 1J. Murray, 1837 - 329 էջ |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 38–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ 26
... turn to linger as you go , From loftier rocks new loveliness survey , And rest ye at " Our Lady's house of woe ; Where frugal monks their little relics show , And sundry legends to the stranger tell : Here impious men have punish'd been ...
... turn to linger as you go , From loftier rocks new loveliness survey , And rest ye at " Our Lady's house of woe ; Where frugal monks their little relics show , And sundry legends to the stranger tell : Here impious men have punish'd been ...
Էջ 29
... turn'd a nation's shallow joy to gloom . Here Folly dash'd to earth the victor's plume , And Policy regain'd what arms had lost : For chiefs like ours in vain may laurels bloom ! Woe to the conqu'ring , not the conquer'd host , Since ...
... turn'd a nation's shallow joy to gloom . Here Folly dash'd to earth the victor's plume , And Policy regain'd what arms had lost : For chiefs like ours in vain may laurels bloom ! Woe to the conqu'ring , not the conquer'd host , Since ...
Էջ 42
... turn Morena's dusky height Sustains aloft the battery's iron load ; And , far as mortal eye can compass sight , The mountain - howitzer , the broken road , The bristling palisade , the fosse o'erflow'd , The station'd bands , the never ...
... turn Morena's dusky height Sustains aloft the battery's iron load ; And , far as mortal eye can compass sight , The mountain - howitzer , the broken road , The bristling palisade , the fosse o'erflow'd , The station'd bands , the never ...
Էջ 48
... turn'd aside to pay my homage here ; Forgot the land , the sons , the maids of Spain Her fate , to every freeborn bosom dear ; And hail'd thee , not perchance without a tear . Now to my theme - but from thy holy haunt Let me some ...
... turn'd aside to pay my homage here ; Forgot the land , the sons , the maids of Spain Her fate , to every freeborn bosom dear ; And hail'd thee , not perchance without a tear . Now to my theme - but from thy holy haunt Let me some ...
Էջ 50
... turns . 1 LXVIII . The Sabbath comes , a day of blessed rest : What hallows it upon this Christian shore ? Lo ! it is sacred to a solemn feast : Hark ! heard you not the forest - monarch's roar ? Crashing the lance , he snuffs the ...
... turns . 1 LXVIII . The Sabbath comes , a day of blessed rest : What hallows it upon this Christian shore ? Lo ! it is sacred to a solemn feast : Hark ! heard you not the forest - monarch's roar ? Crashing the lance , he snuffs the ...
Այլ խմբագրություններ - View all
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt, Հատոր 1 George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Ամբողջությամբ դիտվող - 1837 |
Common terms and phrases
Alban hill Albanians Ali Pacha amongst ancient Ariosto Athens beauty behold beneath blood Boccaccio bosom breast breath brow Cæsar called Canto charms Childe Harold CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE church Cicero clime Constantinople dark death deem'd deep dust earth Egeria fair fame feel Florence foes French gaze glory gondoliers Greece Greek hand hath heart Heaven hills Historical Notes Hobhouse honour hope hour immortal Italian Italy Julius Cæsar lake land letter lightning live Lord Byron maid mind mortal mother mountains ne'er never o'er once Pacha palace pass passion Petrarch plain poem poet Portrait Pouqueville rock Roman Rome ruins says scene seems seen shore sigh smile song soul spirit spot Stanza Tasso tears temple thee thine things thou thought tomb Turks Venetians Venice walls waves wild wind woes wolf
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...