The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals, |
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Արդյունքներ 66–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ 6
and Imagination droops her pinion , And the sad truth which hovers o'er my desk Turns what was once romantic to burlesque . IV . And if I laugh at any mortal thing , ' Tis that I may not weep ; and if I weep , ' Tis that our nature ...
and Imagination droops her pinion , And the sad truth which hovers o'er my desk Turns what was once romantic to burlesque . IV . And if I laugh at any mortal thing , ' Tis that I may not weep ; and if I weep , ' Tis that our nature ...
Էջ 13
I know not why , but in that hour to - night , Even as they gazed , a sudden tremor came , And swept , as ' t were , across their heart's delight , Like the wind o'er a harp - string , or a flame , When one is shook in sound , and one ...
I know not why , but in that hour to - night , Even as they gazed , a sudden tremor came , And swept , as ' t were , across their heart's delight , Like the wind o'er a harp - string , or a flame , When one is shook in sound , and one ...
Էջ 16
The sweetest song - birds nestle in a pair ; The eagle soars alone ; the gull and crow Flock o'er their carrion , just like men below . XXIX . Now pillow'd cheek to cheek , in loving sleep , Haidée and Juan their siesta took , A gentle ...
The sweetest song - birds nestle in a pair ; The eagle soars alone ; the gull and crow Flock o'er their carrion , just like men below . XXIX . Now pillow'd cheek to cheek , in loving sleep , Haidée and Juan their siesta took , A gentle ...
Էջ 17
What fable of Æsop , nay of Homer , or of Virgil , conveys so fine a moral ? Yet most people have , if I mistake not , met with such deliver . VOL . XVI . с And o'er her upper lip they seem'd to pour , CANTO IV . 17 DON JUAN .
What fable of Æsop , nay of Homer , or of Virgil , conveys so fine a moral ? Yet most people have , if I mistake not , met with such deliver . VOL . XVI . с And o'er her upper lip they seem'd to pour , CANTO IV . 17 DON JUAN .
Էջ 18
And o'er her upper lip they seem'd to pour , Until she sobb'd for breath , and soon they were Foaming o'er her lone head , so fierce and highEach broke to drown her , yet she could not die . XXXII . Anon - she was released , and then ...
And o'er her upper lip they seem'd to pour , Until she sobb'd for breath , and soon they were Foaming o'er her lone head , so fierce and highEach broke to drown her , yet she could not die . XXXII . Anon - she was released , and then ...
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arms Baba batteries beauty better blood body Canto cause child death deep Don Juan doubt dream ears earth express eyes face fact fair fall fame feelings fell fire give glory hand head heard heart heaven Hist hour human Italy kind kings knew lady land late least leave less light lives look look'd Lord means mind moral natural never night o'er once passion perhaps poor present rest rhyme rose Russian scarce seem'd seems seen short sleep sometimes soon soul spirit strange tears tell things thou thought thousand took true truth turn wall whole wish women young youth
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Էջ 137 - Not where he eats, but where he is eaten : a certain convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your worm is your only emperor for diet : we fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots...
Էջ 6 - And if I laugh at any mortal thing, Tis that I may not weep...
Էջ 16 - ... we are somewhat more than ourselves in our sleeps, and the slumber of the body seems to be but the waking of the soul. It is the ligation of sense, but the liberty of reason; and our waking conceptions do not match the fancies of our sleeps.
Էջ 331 - A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping, Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping In sight, then lost amidst the forestry Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy; A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown On a fool's head - and there is London Town!
Էջ 6 - In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays; Hides from himself his state, and shuns to know, That life protracted is protracted woe. Time hovers o'er, impatient to destroy, And shuts up all the passages of joy: In vain their gifts the bounteous seasons pour, The fruit autumnal, and the vernal...
Էջ 7 - Some have accused me of a strange design Against the creed and morals of the land, And trace it in this poem every line: I don't pretend that I quite understand My own meaning when I would be very fine...
Էջ 21 - It has a strange quick jar upon the ear, That cocking of a pistol, when you know A moment more will bring the sight to bear Upon your person, twelve yards off, or so; A gentlemanly distance, not too near, If you have got a former friend for foe; But after being fired at once or twice, The ear becomes more Irish, and less nice.
Էջ 136 - That never set a squadron in the field, Nor the division of a battle knows More than a spinster...
Էջ 176 - They accuse me - Me - the present writer of The present poem - of - I know not what A tendency to under-rate and scoff At human power and virtue, and all that; And this they say in language rather rough. Good God! I wonder what they would be at! I say no more than hath been said in Dante's Verse, and by Solomon and by Cervantes...
Էջ 7 - Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage. Far off from these a slow and silent stream, Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls Her watery labyrinth, whereof who drinks, Forthwith his former state and being forgets, Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain.