The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte. Poems. Hebrew melodiesJohn Murray, 1817 |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 5–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ 7
... breath of life ; The sword , the sceptre , and that sway Which man seemed made but to obey , Wherewith renown was rife- All quelled ! -Dark Spirit ! what must be The madness of thy memory ! V. The Desolator desolate ! The Victor ...
... breath of life ; The sword , the sceptre , and that sway Which man seemed made but to obey , Wherewith renown was rife- All quelled ! -Dark Spirit ! what must be The madness of thy memory ! V. The Desolator desolate ! The Victor ...
Էջ 68
... breath ; And woman's tears , produced at will , Deceive in life , unman in death . 7 . Then lonely be my latest hour , Without regret , without a groan ! For thousands Death hath ceased to lower , And pain been transient or unknown . 8 ...
... breath ; And woman's tears , produced at will , Deceive in life , unman in death . 7 . Then lonely be my latest hour , Without regret , without a groan ! For thousands Death hath ceased to lower , And pain been transient or unknown . 8 ...
Էջ 127
... breathing pencil born , ( Except that thou hast nothing to repent ) The Magdalen of Guido saw the morn― Such seem'st thou - but how much more excellent ! With nought Remorse can claim - nor Virtue scorn . XXXIII . SONNET . To Genevra ...
... breathing pencil born , ( Except that thou hast nothing to repent ) The Magdalen of Guido saw the morn― Such seem'st thou - but how much more excellent ! With nought Remorse can claim - nor Virtue scorn . XXXIII . SONNET . To Genevra ...
Էջ 170
... breath ! III . Thy name , our charging hosts along , Shall be the battle - word ! Thy fall , the theme of choral song From virgin voices poured ! To weep would do thy glory wrong ; Thou shalt not be deplored . SONG OF SAUL BEFORE HIS ...
... breath ! III . Thy name , our charging hosts along , Shall be the battle - word ! Thy fall , the theme of choral song From virgin voices poured ! To weep would do thy glory wrong ; Thou shalt not be deplored . SONG OF SAUL BEFORE HIS ...
Էջ 200
... breath of his pride : And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf , And cold as the spray of the rock - beating surf . V. And there lay the rider distorted and pale , With the dew on his brow , and the rust on his mail ; And the ...
... breath of his pride : And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf , And cold as the spray of the rock - beating surf . V. And there lay the rider distorted and pale , With the dew on his brow , and the rust on his mail ; And the ...
Այլ խմբագրություններ - View all
The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte ... Ամբողջությամբ դիտվող - 1818 |
The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: Ode to Napoleon Buonaparte ... George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Ամբողջությամբ դիտվող - 1818 |
Common terms and phrases
Abydos art thou Athens beam behold blest blood bloom blush bosom breast cease charms cold Constantinople could'st dare dark dead dear death deemed doomed dream earth fair fame fear feel Fiend's arch mock fire from heaven fled flowers frigate Galilee gaze Genevra glance glory Haideé harp hath heaven HEBREW MELODIES hope hour Judah's JUVENAL light living lonely love thee loved in vain lute Mariamne mirth mourn ne'er never Newstead Abbey night Note o'er once pangs perchance Pindus remember repine Romaic Saul SAW THEE scene shine shone sigh silent smile song Sons of Greeks Sorrow soul sound Sparta STANZAS sweet tears thine thing thou art thou canst thou hast thought throne THY DAYS thy fall Thyrza tomb triumph Turkish twill vainly voice WALKS IN BEAUTY weep wept withered Ζώη σὰς ἀγαπῶ
Սիրված հատվածներ
Էջ 148 - And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent ! THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.
Էջ 199 - Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, 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 withered and strown. For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed...
Էջ 134 - These lips are mute, these eyes are dry ; But in my breast, and in my brain, Awake the pangs that pass not by, The thought that ne'er shall sleep again. My soul nor deigns nor dares complain, Though grief and passion there rebel...
Էջ 200 - And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
Էջ 71 - Too soon return'd to Earth! Though Earth received them in her bed, And o'er the spot the crowd may tread In carelessness or mirth, There is an eye which could not brook A moment on that grave to look. I will not ask where thou liest low, Nor gaze upon the spot; There flowers or weeds at will may grow, So I behold them not...
Էջ 198 - 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.
Էջ 74 - As once I wept, if I could weep My tears might well be shed, To think I was not near to keep One vigil o'er thy bed; To gaze, how fondly ! on thy face, To fold thee in a faint embrace, Uphold thy drooping head; And show that love, however vain, Nor thou nor I can feel again.
Էջ 9 - The Spaniard, when the lust of sway Had lost its quickening spell, Cast crowns for rosaries away, An empire for a cell...
Էջ 183 - In that same hour and hall, The fingers of a hand Came forth against the wall, And wrote as if on sand : The fingers of a man ; A solitary hand Along the letters ran And traced them like a wand.
Էջ 164 - ... roses rear Their leaves, the earliest of the year; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom: And oft by yon blue gushing stream Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, And feed deep thought with many a dream, And lingering pause and lightly tread: Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead!