Childe Harold: Canto the Fourth, The Prisoner of Chillon and MazepaHoughton Mifflin Company, 1909 - 136 էջ |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 20–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ 2
... Hope , the last from Vacancy ; And this worn feeling peoples many a page , And , may be , that which grows beneath mine eye . Yet there are things whose strong reality Outshines our fairy - land ; in shape and hues 2 BYRON.
... Hope , the last from Vacancy ; And this worn feeling peoples many a page , And , may be , that which grows beneath mine eye . Yet there are things whose strong reality Outshines our fairy - land ; in shape and hues 2 BYRON.
Էջ 8
... hope replenish'd and re- buoy'd , Return to whence they came - with like intent , And weave their web again ; some , bow'd and bent , Wax gray and ghastly , withering ere their time , And perish with the reed on which they leant ; Some ...
... hope replenish'd and re- buoy'd , Return to whence they came - with like intent , And weave their web again ; some , bow'd and bent , Wax gray and ghastly , withering ere their time , And perish with the reed on which they leant ; Some ...
Էջ 25
... Hope upon a death - bed , and , unworn Its steady dyes while all around is torn By the distracted waters , bears serene Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn ; Resembling , ' mid the torture of the scene , Love watching ...
... Hope upon a death - bed , and , unworn Its steady dyes while all around is torn By the distracted waters , bears serene Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn ; Resembling , ' mid the torture of the scene , Love watching ...
Էջ 36
... hope , once more To battle with the ocean and the shocks Of the loud breakers , and the ceaseless roar Which rushes on the solitary shore Where all lies founder'd that was ever dear . But could I gather from the wave - worn store Enough ...
... hope , once more To battle with the ocean and the shocks Of the loud breakers , and the ceaseless roar Which rushes on the solitary shore Where all lies founder'd that was ever dear . But could I gather from the wave - worn store Enough ...
Էջ 39
... The friend of Petrarch - hope of Italy- Rienzi ! last of Romans ! While the tree Of freedom's wither'd trunk puts forth a leaf Even for thy tomb a garland let it be - 1025 The forum's champion , and the people's chief - CHILDE HAROLD 39.
... The friend of Petrarch - hope of Italy- Rienzi ! last of Romans ! While the tree Of freedom's wither'd trunk puts forth a leaf Even for thy tomb a garland let it be - 1025 The forum's champion , and the people's chief - CHILDE HAROLD 39.
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Childe Harold: Canto the Fourth, The Prisoner of Chillon and Mazepa George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Ամբողջությամբ դիտվող - 1909 |
Common terms and phrases
15 cents Æneid Apollo Belvedere Arqua ashes Bards Battle of Pultowa beauty beneath Biographical Sketch blood bound breast breath brow Byron Cæsar cantos castle castle of Chillon chain Childe Harold Childe Harold's Pilgrimage Coliseum Cossacks Crown 8vo Dante dark dead death deep dome doth dread dungeon dust E. H. Coleridge earth effect English eyes feel Florence foes gaze GEORGE HERBERT PALMER glory gray hath heart heaven Hetman Hobhouse hope hour hyæna immortal Italy Julius Cæsar King lake light limbs linen Literature Lord Mazeppa mighty mind monarch mother mountains Napoleon night Note o'er ocean Petrarch poem poet Prisoner of Chillon Riverside Shakespeare Roman Rome round ruin scene seem'd seen shine shore soul spirit Stanza star steed Tasso tears thee thine thou thought tomb tree Ukraine Venice wall waters waves wild wind woes youth
Սիրված հատվածներ
Էջ 27 - The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, Ye!
Էջ 62 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore. There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.
Էջ 63 - The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee and arbiter of war, — These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride or spoils of Trafalgar.
Էջ 49 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand ; his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low : 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 hailed the wretch who won.
Էջ 49 - Were with his heart, and that was far away ; He reck'd not of the life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother — he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday — All this rush'd with his blood — Shall he expire And unavenged? Arise! ye Goths, and glut your ire!
Էջ 63 - Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee — Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they? Thy waters wash'd them power while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts: — not so thou; Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves' play, Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow: Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Էջ 64 - And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy I wanton'd with thy breakers — they to me Were a delight ; and if the freshening sea Made them a terror — '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 28 - But Rome is as the desert — where we steer Stumbling o'er recollections ; now we clap Our hands, and cry 'Eureka!
Էջ 62 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed...
Էջ 62 - 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.