PoemsG. Routledge and Sons, 1866 - 719 ページ |
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vi ページ
... fate ' " " I would I were a careless child ' " " 72 73 76 78 79 " When I roved a young Highlander " 80 To George , Earl Delawar - Oh ! yes , I will own To the Earl of Clare- " Friend of my youth ' 81 29 Lines written beneath an Elm in ...
... fate ' " " I would I were a careless child ' " " 72 73 76 78 79 " When I roved a young Highlander " 80 To George , Earl Delawar - Oh ! yes , I will own To the Earl of Clare- " Friend of my youth ' 81 29 Lines written beneath an Elm in ...
xvi ページ
... fate as Lady Byron's , without , perhaps , that lady's means and firmness to free herself from a life of misery . The " Dream " is a beautiful poem , but that is all ; and the reader must not be led by it to suppose that the lady's ...
... fate as Lady Byron's , without , perhaps , that lady's means and firmness to free herself from a life of misery . The " Dream " is a beautiful poem , but that is all ; and the reader must not be led by it to suppose that the lady's ...
xix ページ
... fate : he answered that review , his answer proved his ability and was very much admired ; he had found he possessed a weapon which could wound the world which he falsely thought his enemy , and from that hour to the day of his death ...
... fate : he answered that review , his answer proved his ability and was very much admired ; he had found he possessed a weapon which could wound the world which he falsely thought his enemy , and from that hour to the day of his death ...
xxxv ページ
... fate ! Not here the mourner would his grief reveal , Not here the muse her virtues would relate . But wherefore weep ? Her matchless spirit soars Beyond where splendid shines the orb of day ; And weeping angels lead her to those bowers ...
... fate ! Not here the mourner would his grief reveal , Not here the muse her virtues would relate . But wherefore weep ? Her matchless spirit soars Beyond where splendid shines the orb of day ; And weeping angels lead her to those bowers ...
xxxvi ページ
George Gordon Byron Baron Byron. And though unequal is thy fate , Since title deck'd my higher birth ! Yet envy not this gaudy state ; Thine is the pride of modest worth . Our souls at least congenial meet , Nor can thy lot my rank ...
George Gordon Byron Baron Byron. And though unequal is thy fate , Since title deck'd my higher birth ! Yet envy not this gaudy state ; Thine is the pride of modest worth . Our souls at least congenial meet , Nor can thy lot my rank ...
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多く使われている語句
Adah adieu arms art thou Athens bard beam beauty behold beneath blest blood bosom breast breath brow Byron Cain Calmar CATULLUS cheek Countess Guiccioli dare dark dead dear death deeds dread dream dwell earth Edinburgh Review fair falchion fame fate fear feel fix'd flame foes forget friendship gaze genius Giaour glance glory glow grave Greece grief hand hate hath heart heaven honour hope hour kiss Lady Lara Lara's lips live Lochlin Lord Lord Byron Lucifer lyre Mathon mind Morven muse ne'er never Newstead Abbey night numbers o'er once Orla pass'd passion perchance poem pride scarce scene seem'd shine shore sigh sire slave sleep smile song soul spirit stamp'd sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought throne truth turn'd twas twill verse voice wave weep wild wing word young youth Zuleika
人気のある引用
556 ページ - 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
534 ページ - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
556 ページ - 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!
302 ページ - 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. 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.
674 ページ - You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet, Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one? You have the letters Cadmus gave— Think ye he meant them for a slave?
350 ページ - The last, the sole, the dearest link Between me and the eternal brink, Which bound me to my failing race, Was broken in this fatal place.
354 ページ - With spiders I had friendship made, And watch'd them in their sullen trade, Had seen the mice by moonlight play, And why should I feel less than they ? We were all...
558 ページ - There have been tears and breaking hearts for thee, And mine were nothing, had I such to give ; But when I stood beneath the fresh green tree, Which living waves where thou didst cease to live, And saw around me the wide field revive With fruits and fertile promise, and the Spring Come forth her work of gladness to contrive, With all her reckless birds upon the wing, I turn'd from all she brought to those she could not bring.
350 ページ - Less wretched now, and one day free ; He, too, who yet had held untired A spirit natural or inspired — He, too, was struck, and day by day, Was wither'd on the stalk away.
549 ページ - Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild ; Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his honied wealth...