The poetical works of lord Byron, ed. with a critical mem. by W. M. RossettiWard Lock, 1880 |
From inside the book
Արդյունքներ 81–ի 1-ից 5-ը:
Էջ xi
... never perhaps as the purging and spiritualising flame of life — to domi- nate his whole career . At Aberdeen he had loved a little girl named Mary Duff ; about 1800 he was enthralled by his lovely cousin Margaret Parker , who died of a ...
... never perhaps as the purging and spiritualising flame of life — to domi- nate his whole career . At Aberdeen he had loved a little girl named Mary Duff ; about 1800 he was enthralled by his lovely cousin Margaret Parker , who died of a ...
Էջ xv
... never live with him again . The full reasons for this resolve had never till our own days been publicly divulged , nor were they even notified with any precision to Byron himself , if his own account is not to be discarded . It is ...
... never live with him again . The full reasons for this resolve had never till our own days been publicly divulged , nor were they even notified with any precision to Byron himself , if his own account is not to be discarded . It is ...
Էջ xix
... never wholly rid of the sensation again . The weather at Missolonghi was detestable , and the place unhealthy . At the begin- ning of February he got wet through , and on the evening of the 15th had a dreadful convulsive fit , which ...
... never wholly rid of the sensation again . The weather at Missolonghi was detestable , and the place unhealthy . At the begin- ning of February he got wet through , and on the evening of the 15th had a dreadful convulsive fit , which ...
Էջ 14
... never yet were friends . Him senates hear , whom never yet they heard Contemptuous once , and now no less absurd . So , once of yore , each reasonable frog Swore faith and fealty to his sovereign ' log . ' Thus hail'd your rulers their ...
... never yet were friends . Him senates hear , whom never yet they heard Contemptuous once , and now no less absurd . So , once of yore , each reasonable frog Swore faith and fealty to his sovereign ' log . ' Thus hail'd your rulers their ...
Էջ 26
... never yet one mortal song inspire- Goddess of Wisdom ! here thy temple was , And is , despite of war and wasting fire , * And years , that bade thy worship to expire : But worse than steel , and flame , and ages slow , Is the drear ...
... never yet one mortal song inspire- Goddess of Wisdom ! here thy temple was , And is , despite of war and wasting fire , * And years , that bade thy worship to expire : But worse than steel , and flame , and ages slow , Is the drear ...
Այլ խմբագրություններ - View all
Common terms and phrases
Adah Anah art thou aught beauty behold beneath blood bosom breast breath brow Cæs Cain call'd Calmar coursers dare dark dead death deep Doge doth dread dream e'er earth eyes fair fame father fear feel gaze Giaour glory grave Greece hand hath hear heard heart heaven honour hope hour Iden Juan king knew Lady leave less Lioni live look look'd lord Lucifer Michel Steno mortal Myrrha ne'er never night nought o'er once PANIA pass'd passion Rome round SARDANAPALUS satraps scarce scene seem'd shore Sieg Siegendorf sigh sire slave sleep smile soul spirit stars Stral strange Suwarrow sweet sword tears thee thine things thou art thought turn'd twas twill unto voice wave whate'er wild words young youth
Սիրված հատվածներ
Էջ 38 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed. The mustering squadron, and the clattering car. Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While thronged the citizens with terror dumb. Or whispering with white lips — "The foe! They come! they come ! " And wild and high the "Cameron's gathering
Էջ 134 - To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar — for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard ! — May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
Էջ 38 - No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet But hark! - that heavy sound breaks in once more, As if the clouds its echo would repeat; And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! Arm! Arm! it is - it is - the cannon's opening roar!
Էջ 555 - 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 555 - And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail : And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
Էջ 403 - Phoebus sprung. Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set. 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 To sounds which echo further west Than your sires
Էջ 64 - 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 64 - 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...
Էջ 64 - 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 403 - Tis something, in the dearth of fame, Though link'd among a fetter'd race, To feel at least a patriot's shame, Even as I sing, suffuse my face; For what is left the poet here? For Greeks a blush - for Greece a tear.