The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: Childe HaroldJohn Murray, 1817 |
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xiii ページ
... ancient and modern times ) , few exceptions will be found to this statement , and I fear a little inves- tigation will teach us not to regret these monstrous mummeries of the middle ages . I now leave " Childe Harold " to live his xiii.
... ancient and modern times ) , few exceptions will be found to this statement , and I fear a little inves- tigation will teach us not to regret these monstrous mummeries of the middle ages . I now leave " Childe Harold " to live his xiii.
10 ページ
... Paphian girls were known to sing and smile ; And monks might deem their time was come agen , If ancient tales say true , nor wrong these holy men . VIII . Yet oft - times in his maddest mirthful 10 Canto I. CHILDE HAROLD'S.
... Paphian girls were known to sing and smile ; And monks might deem their time was come agen , If ancient tales say true , nor wrong these holy men . VIII . Yet oft - times in his maddest mirthful 10 Canto I. CHILDE HAROLD'S.
29 ページ
... ancient roundelays among . Whilome upon his banks did legions throng Of Moor and knight , in mailed splendour drest : Here ceased the swift theirrace , here sunk the strong ; The Paynim turban and the Christian crest Mixed on the ...
... ancient roundelays among . Whilome upon his banks did legions throng Of Moor and knight , in mailed splendour drest : Here ceased the swift theirrace , here sunk the strong ; The Paynim turban and the Christian crest Mixed on the ...
30 ページ
... ancient goddess , cries , But wields not , as of old , her thirsty lance , Nor shakes her crimson plumage in the skies : Now on the smoke of blazing bolts she flies , And speaks in thunder through yon engine's roar : In every peal she ...
... ancient goddess , cries , But wields not , as of old , her thirsty lance , Nor shakes her crimson plumage in the skies : Now on the smoke of blazing bolts she flies , And speaks in thunder through yon engine's roar : In every peal she ...
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... ancient days ; " But Cadiz , rising on the distant coast , Calls forth a sweeter , though ignoble praise . Ah , Vice ! how soft are thy voluptuous ways ! While boyish blood is mantling who can ' scape The fascination of thy magic gaze ...
... ancient days ; " But Cadiz , rising on the distant coast , Calls forth a sweeter , though ignoble praise . Ah , Vice ! how soft are thy voluptuous ways ! While boyish blood is mantling who can ' scape The fascination of thy magic gaze ...
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68 ページ - Look on its broken arch, its ruin'd wall, Its chambers desolate, and portals foul : Yes, this was once Ambition's airy hall, The dome of Thought, the palace of the Soul: Behold through each lack-lustre, eyeless hole, The gay recess of Wisdom and of Wit And Passion's host, that never brook'd control : Can all saint, sage, or sophist ever writ, People this lonely tower, this tenement refit ? VII. Well didst thou speak, Athena's wisest son ! "All that we know is, nothing can be known.
128 ページ - Insatiate archer ! could not one suffice ? Thy shaft flew thrice ; and thrice my peace was slain ; And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had fill'd her horn.
32 ページ - By Heaven ! it is a splendid sight to see (For one who hath no friend, no brother there) Their rival scarfs of mix'd embroidery, Their various arms that glitter in the air ! What gallant war-hounds rouse them from their lair, And gnash their fangs, loud yelling for the prey ! All join the chase, but few the triumph share ; The Grave shall bear the chiefest prize away, And Havoc scarce for joy can number their array.
127 ページ - Eximia veste et victu convivia, ludi, pocula crebra, unguenta coronae serta parantur, nequiquam, quoniam medio de fonte leporum surgit amari aliquid quod in ipsis floribus angat...
130 ページ - Man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Plays such fantastic tricks before high Heaven As make the angels weep.
105 ページ - Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more; though fallen, great! Who now shall lead thy scattered children forth, And long accustomed bondage uncreate?
31 ページ - Lo! where the Giant on the mountain stands, His blood-red tresses deep'ning in the sun, With death-shot glowing in his fiery hands, And eye that scorcheth all it glares upon; Restless it rolls, now fix'd, and now anon Flashing afar, - and at his iron feet Destruction cowers, to mark what deeds are done; For on this morn three potent nations meet, To shed before his shrine the blood he deems most sweet.
89 ページ - Where'er we gaze, around, above, below, What rainbow tints, what magic charms are found! Rock, river, forest, mountain all abound, And bluest skies that harmonize the whole : Beneath, the distant torrent's rushing sound Tells where the volumed cataract doth roll Between those hanging rocks, that shock yet please the soul.
139 ページ - The Arnaouts, or Albanese, struck me forcibly by their resemblance to the Highlanders of Scotland, in dress, figure, and manner of living. Their very mountains seemed Caledonian, with a kinder climate. The kilt, though white ; the spare, active form ; their dialect, Celtic in its sound, and their hardy habits, all carried me back to Mprven.
23 ページ - Beneath yon mountain's ever beauteous brow : But now, as if a thing unblest by Man, Thy fairy dwelling is as lone as thou ! Here giant weeds a passage scarce allow To halls deserted, portals gaping wide : Fresh lessons to the thinking bosom, how Vain are the pleasaunces on earth supplied ; Swept into wrecks anon by Time's ungentle tide ! XXIV.