The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: Childe HaroldJohn Murray, 1817 |
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18 ページ
... bear'st me to , So not again to mine . Welcome , welcome , ye dark - blue waves ! And when you fail my sight , Welcome , ye deserts , and ye caves ! My native Land - Good Night ! " XIV . On , on the vessel flies , the 18 Canto I. CHILDE ...
... bear'st me to , So not again to mine . Welcome , welcome , ye dark - blue waves ! And when you fail my sight , Welcome , ye deserts , and ye caves ! My native Land - Good Night ! " XIV . On , on the vessel flies , the 18 Canto I. CHILDE ...
32 ページ
... bear the chiefest prize away , And Havoc scarce for joy can number their array . XLI . Three hosts combine to offer sacrifice ; Three tongues prefer strange orisons on high ; Three gaudy standards flout , the pale blue skies ; The ...
... bear the chiefest prize away , And Havoc scarce for joy can number their array . XLI . Three hosts combine to offer sacrifice ; Three tongues prefer strange orisons on high ; Three gaudy standards flout , the pale blue skies ; The ...
36 ページ
... peasant stormed the dragon's nest ; Still does he mark it with triumphant boast , And points to yonder cliffs , which oft were won and lost . L. And whomsoe'er along the path you meet Bears in 36 Canto I. CHILDE HAROLD'S.
... peasant stormed the dragon's nest ; Still does he mark it with triumphant boast , And points to yonder cliffs , which oft were won and lost . L. And whomsoe'er along the path you meet Bears in 36 Canto I. CHILDE HAROLD'S.
37 ページ
... Bears in his cap the badge of crimson hue , Which tells you whom to shun and whom to greet : 9 Woe to the man that walks in public view Without of loyalty this token true : Sharp is the knife , and sudden is the stroke ; And sorely ...
... Bears in his cap the badge of crimson hue , Which tells you whom to shun and whom to greet : 9 Woe to the man that walks in public view Without of loyalty this token true : Sharp is the knife , and sudden is the stroke ; And sorely ...
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... bears his touch : 12 Her lips , whose kisses pout to leave their nest , Bid man be valiant ere he merit such : Her glance how wildly beautiful ! how much Hath Phoebus wooed in vain to spoil her cheek , Which glows yet smoother from his ...
... bears his touch : 12 Her lips , whose kisses pout to leave their nest , Bid man be valiant ere he merit such : Her glance how wildly beautiful ! how much Hath Phoebus wooed in vain to spoil her cheek , Which glows yet smoother from his ...
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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.