The Beauties of Byron,: Consisting of Selections from His WorksT. Davison, 1824 - 212 ページ |
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... of the dying and the dead ? For to - morrow we give to the slaughter and flame The sons and the shrines of the Christian name . None save thou and thine , I've sworn , Shall be left upon the morn : But thee will BYRON . 3.
... of the dying and the dead ? For to - morrow we give to the slaughter and flame The sons and the shrines of the Christian name . None save thou and thine , I've sworn , Shall be left upon the morn : But thee will BYRON . 3.
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... dead : When Juan caught a glimpse of this sad sight , I shall not say exactly what he said , Because it might not solace " ears polite ; " * Allah Hu ! is properly the war cry of the Mussul- mans , and they dwell long on the last ...
... dead : When Juan caught a glimpse of this sad sight , I shall not say exactly what he said , Because it might not solace " ears polite ; " * Allah Hu ! is properly the war cry of the Mussul- mans , and they dwell long on the last ...
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... , with maternal grief She clasps a babe , to whom her breast yields no relief . Scion of chiefs and monarchs , where art thou ? Fond hope of many nations , art thou dead ? Could not the grave forget thee , and lay low BYRON .
... , with maternal grief She clasps a babe , to whom her breast yields no relief . Scion of chiefs and monarchs , where art thou ? Fond hope of many nations , art thou dead ? Could not the grave forget thee , and lay low BYRON .
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... dead ! ; Of sackcloth was thy wedding garment made Thy bridal's fruit is ashes : in the dust The fair - hair'd Daughter of the Isles is laid , The love of millions ! How we did intrust Futurity to her ! and , though it must Darken above ...
... dead ! ; Of sackcloth was thy wedding garment made Thy bridal's fruit is ashes : in the dust The fair - hair'd Daughter of the Isles is laid , The love of millions ! How we did intrust Futurity to her ! and , though it must Darken above ...
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... the unquench'd soul - parch'd - wearied- wrung - and riven . EUTHANASIA . When Time , or soon or late , shall bring The dreamless sleep that lulls the dead , Oblivion ! may thy languid wing Wave gently o'er my BYRON . 41.
... the unquench'd soul - parch'd - wearied- wrung - and riven . EUTHANASIA . When Time , or soon or late , shall bring The dreamless sleep that lulls the dead , Oblivion ! may thy languid wing Wave gently o'er my BYRON . 41.
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arms art thou aught Ave Maria beam beauty behold beneath blest blood blue bosom breast breath brow capital punishments Carthage charm cheek Clarens clouds dark dead death deep dread dream e'er eagle passes earth Egeria eternal face fair fear feel flowers gaze gentle GIAOUR glance glow gondolier grave grief hand hath heart heaven hope hour human clay JUNGFRAU Kaled knew light lips living lone look look'd mortal mountains Myrrha ne'er never night o'er once pale passion pause pride rill Rome rose round Samian wine scarce seem'd Seraph shine shone shore sigh sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stamp'd stars stood sweet tears tender thee thine things thou art thought trembling twas twill waters wave weep wert Whate'er wild wind wing wither'd youth Zuleika
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66 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...
52 ページ - Could I embody and unbosom now That which is most within me, — could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings, strong or weak, All that I would have sought, and all I seek, Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe — into one word, And that one word were Lightning, I would speak; But as it is, I live and die unheard, With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword.
66 ページ - Must we but blush? Our fathers bled. Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three To make a new Thermopylae ! What, silent still? and silent all? Ah! no — the voices of the dead Sound like a distant torrent's fall, And answer, "Let one living head, But one arise — we come, we come!
148 ページ - O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, Survey our empire, and behold our home!
146 ページ - 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, alone.
66 ページ - On Suli's rock and Parga's shore Exists the remnant of a line Such as the Doric mothers bore ; And there, perhaps, some seed is sown, The Heraclcidan blood might own.
117 ページ - The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains. — Beautiful! I linger yet with Nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man ; and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness, I learn'd the language of another world.
63 ページ - Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, Along Morea's hills the setting sun: Not, as in northern climes, obscurely bright, But one unclouded blaze of living light!
150 ページ - He faded, and so calm and meek, So softly worn, so sweetly weak, So tearless, yet so tender — kind, And grieved for those he left behind; With all the while a cheek whose bloom...
164 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...