Byron's Childe Harold, Cantos III and IV: The Prisoner of Chillon, and Other PoemsH. Holt, 1913 - 232 էջ |
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Alps Arqua Augusta Bards battle beauty beneath blood breast breath bright brow Byron Byron's note Cæsar Canto canto of Childe Castle of Chillon cents Childe Harold Childe Harold's Pilgrimage Clarens Coliseum daughter dead death deep desolate dungeon dust earth Edited empires Epistle to Augusta eyes fame fate feeling Florence foes gaze Giaour glory grave Greece hath heart heaven horse human immortal lake Lake Geneva liberty lines lived Lord Lord Byron lyric Mazeppa mind mortal mountains Napoleon nature never night o'er ocean passage passion Petrarch poem poet poetry Prisoner of Chillon Rhine rime rock Roman Rome ruin Samian wine scene seem'd Shelley shore Siege of Corinth smile soul spirit stanzas stars story sweet Tasso tears thee thine things thou thought throne tomb tree twas Venice walls Waterloo waves wild wind woes Wordsworth youth ΙΟ
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Էջ 141 - throne!" THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold. And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. H Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
Էջ 171 - But never either found another To free the hollow heart from paining — They stood aloof, the scars remaining, Like cliffs which had been rent asunder; A dreary sea now flows between, But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder, Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath been.
Էջ 169 - The sounding cataract Haunted me like a passion: the tall rock, The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, Their colors, and their forms, were then to me An appetite, a feeling, and a love, That had no need of a remoter charm.
Էջ 157 - this heart should be unmoved, Since others it hath ceased to move: Yet, though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love! My days are in the yellow leaf; 5 The flowers and fruits of love are gone; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone! m
Էջ 153 - rose and Phoebus sprung! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set. n The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Have found the fame your shores refuse; Their place of birth alone is mute 10 To sounds which echo further west Than
Էջ 141 - And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, — and forever grew still! IV And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
Էջ 179 - Wordsworth's sonnet, On the Extinction of the Venetian Republic: — "Once did she hold the gorgeous East in fee, And was the safeguard of the West: the worth Of Venice did not fall below her birth,— Venice, the eldest Child of Liberty. She was a maiden City, bright and free; No guile seduced, no
Էջ 154 - Islands of the Blest." m The mountains look on Marathon — And Marathon looks on the sea; And musing there an hour alone, 15 I dream'd that Greece might still be free; For, standing on the Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave.
Էջ 141 - Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, 5 That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on.the morrow lay wither'd and strown.
Էջ 156 - Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! On Suli's rock, and Parga's shore, Exists the remnant of a line 75 Such as the Doric mothers bore: And there, perhaps, some seed is sown, The Heracleidan blood might own. XIV Trust not for freedom to the Franks — They have a king who buys and sells: