Lord Byron's Works ...F. Louis, 1821 |
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Página 7
... dares not call thee from thy sacred hill : Yet there I've wandered by thy vaunted rill ; Yes ! sighed o'er Delphi's long - deserted shrine , Where , save that feeble fountain , all is still ; Nor mote my shell awake the weary Nine grace ...
... dares not call thee from thy sacred hill : Yet there I've wandered by thy vaunted rill ; Yes ! sighed o'er Delphi's long - deserted shrine , Where , save that feeble fountain , all is still ; Nor mote my shell awake the weary Nine grace ...
Página 24
... dare to pave their way With human hearts - to what ? - ? -a dream alone . Can despots compass aught that hails their sway ? Or call with truth one span of earth their own , Save that wherein at last they crumble bone by bone ? XLIII ...
... dare to pave their way With human hearts - to what ? - ? -a dream alone . Can despots compass aught that hails their sway ? Or call with truth one span of earth their own , Save that wherein at last they crumble bone by bone ? XLIII ...
Página 29
... dare to move , ' Tis but the tender fierceness of the dove Pecking the hand that hovers o'er her mate : In softness as in firmness far above Remoter females , famed for sickening prate ; Her mind is nobler sure , her charms perchance as ...
... dare to move , ' Tis but the tender fierceness of the dove Pecking the hand that hovers o'er her mate : In softness as in firmness far above Remoter females , famed for sickening prate ; Her mind is nobler sure , her charms perchance as ...
Página 30
... dare to soar , But gaze beneath thy cloudy canopy In silent joy to think at last I look on Thee ! LXII . Happier in this than mightiest bards have been , Whose fate to distant homes confined their lot , Shall I unmoved behold the ...
... dare to soar , But gaze beneath thy cloudy canopy In silent joy to think at last I look on Thee ! LXII . Happier in this than mightiest bards have been , Whose fate to distant homes confined their lot , Shall I unmoved behold the ...
Página 53
... dare . To cast a worthless offering at thy shrine , Nor ask so dear a breast to feel one pang for mine . XXXI . Thus Harold deemed , as on that lady's eye He looked , and met its beam without a thought , Save admiration glancing ...
... dare . To cast a worthless offering at thy shrine , Nor ask so dear a breast to feel one pang for mine . XXXI . Thus Harold deemed , as on that lady's eye He looked , and met its beam without a thought , Save admiration glancing ...
Términos y frases comunes
ABBOT OF SAINT Albania Alhama art thou ASTARTE beauty behold beneath blood Bonnivard bosom breast breath brow Cavalier Servente CHAMOIS HUNTER charm Childe Childe Harold CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE clouds cold courser dare dark dead death deemed deep dost doth dread dream dust dwell earth eyes fair fame fear feel gaze Giaour glory glow grave Greece hand hast hath heart heaven hope hour hues Idlesse immortal land light limbs live lone look MANFRED Mazeppa mighty mind mingling mortal mountains ne'er never night nought o'er once pang pass Pindus rock round SAINT MAURICE scarce scene shine shore SIEGE OF CORINTH sigh silent skies smile song soul spirit star steed stood sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thousand throne tomb twas Venice voice walls wandering waves wild wind youth
Pasajes populares
Página 179 - 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...
Página 225 - 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...
Página 218 - Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth; And constancy lives in realms above; And life is thorny; and youth is vain; And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain.
Página 120 - I STOOD in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs, A palace and a prison on each hand ; I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Página 167 - 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!
Página 181 - Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time Calm or convulsed — in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime — The image of Eternity — the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless...
Página 88 - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms, — the day Battle's magnificently stern array!
Página 105 - When elements to elements conform. And dust is as it should be, shall I not Feel all I see, less dazzling, but more warm ? The bodiless thought?
Página 128 - Thou art the garden of the world, the home Of all Art yields, and Nature can decree ; Even in thy desert, what is like to thee ? Thy very weeds are beautiful, thy waste More rich than other climes' fertility ; Thy wreck a glory, and thy ruin graced With an immaculate charm which cannot be defaced.
Página 99 - twere anew, the gaps of centuries ; Leaving that beautiful which still was so, And making that which was not, till the place Became religion, and the heart ran o'er With silent worship of the great of old, — The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule Our spirits from their urns.