Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 32–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ 181
“ Let winds be sbrill , let waves roll high , I fear not wave nor wind ; Yet marvel not , Sir Childe , that I Am sorrowful in mind ; For I have from my father gone , A mother whom I love , And have no friend save these alone But thee ...
“ Let winds be sbrill , let waves roll high , I fear not wave nor wind ; Yet marvel not , Sir Childe , that I Am sorrowful in mind ; For I have from my father gone , A mother whom I love , And have no friend save these alone But thee ...
Էջ 182
... ere I come back again , He'd tear me where he stands . 10 . “ With thee , my bark , I'll swiftly go Atb ward the foaming brine ; Nor care what land thou bear'st me to So not again to mine . Welcome , welcome , ye dark - blue waves !
... ere I come back again , He'd tear me where he stands . 10 . “ With thee , my bark , I'll swiftly go Atb ward the foaming brine ; Nor care what land thou bear'st me to So not again to mine . Welcome , welcome , ye dark - blue waves !
Էջ 183
... the hand that waves the sword To save them from the wrath of Gaul's unsparing lord . XVII . But whoso entereth within this town , That , sheening far , celestial seems to be , Disconsolate will wander up and down , ' Mid many things ...
... the hand that waves the sword To save them from the wrath of Gaul's unsparing lord . XVII . But whoso entereth within this town , That , sheening far , celestial seems to be , Disconsolate will wander up and down , ' Mid many things ...
Էջ 187
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 ...
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 ...
Էջ 194
The humblest of thy pilgrims passing by , Would gladly woo thine Echoes with his string , Though from thy heights no more one Muse will wave LXI . [ her wing Oft have I dream'd of thee ! whose glorious name Who knows not , knows not ...
The humblest of thy pilgrims passing by , Would gladly woo thine Echoes with his string , Though from thy heights no more one Muse will wave LXI . [ her wing Oft have I dream'd of thee ! whose glorious name Who knows not , knows not ...
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Այլ խմբագրություններ - View all
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt, Հատոր 1 George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Ամբողջությամբ դիտվող - 1837 |
Common terms and phrases
bear beauty behold beneath blood blue bosom breast breath bright brow CANTO charms chief Childe clouds dark dead dear death deem deep doth dread dream dust dwell earth fair fall fame fate feel fire foes gaze Glory glow grave hand Harold hath heart heaven hills hope hour immortal Italy land leave less light live look lord lost meet mighty mind mortal mountains Nature never night o'er once pass passion past plain pride proud rise rock Rome round ruin scene seek seen shore sigh smile song soul sound spirit spring stand star stream sweet tears thee thine things thou thought thousand till tomb tree vain Venice voice walls waters waves wild wind woes young youth
Բիբլիոգրաֆիական տվյալներ
| Վերնագիր | Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt |
| Հեղինակ | George Gordon Byron Baron Byron |
| Հրատարակիչ | W. Dugdale, 1826 |
| Original from | Հարվարդի համալսարան |
| Digitized | 15 Հունվար 2009 |
| Length | 162 էջ |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |