Childe Harold's pilgrimage, ed. by W. Hiley |
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... o'er this page , nor to my verse deny That smile for which my breast might vainly sigh , Could I to thee be ever more than friend : This much , dear maid , accord ; nor question why To one so young my strain I would commend , But bid me ...
... o'er this page , nor to my verse deny That smile for which my breast might vainly sigh , Could I to thee be ever more than friend : This much , dear maid , accord ; nor question why To one so young my strain I would commend , But bid me ...
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... o'er Delphi's long deserted shrine , Where , save that feeble fountain , all is still ; Nor mote1 my shell awake the weary Nine To grace so plain a tale - this lowly lay of mine . II Whilome 2 in Albion's Isle there dwelt a youth , Who ...
... o'er Delphi's long deserted shrine , Where , save that feeble fountain , all is still ; Nor mote1 my shell awake the weary Nine To grace so plain a tale - this lowly lay of mine . II Whilome 2 in Albion's Isle there dwelt a youth , Who ...
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... o'er it he did fling , And tuned his farewell in the dim twilight . While flew the vessel on her snowy wing , And fleeting shores receded from his sight , Thus to the elements he poured his last Good Night . ' 1 ADIEU , adieu ! my ...
... o'er it he did fling , And tuned his farewell in the dim twilight . While flew the vessel on her snowy wing , And fleeting shores receded from his sight , Thus to the elements he poured his last Good Night . ' 1 ADIEU , adieu ! my ...
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... o'er . For pleasures past I do not grieve , Nor perils gathering near ; My greatest grief is that I leave No thing that claims a tear . 9 And now I'm in the world alone , Upon the wide , wide sea : But why should I for others groan ...
... o'er . For pleasures past I do not grieve , Nor perils gathering near ; My greatest grief is that I leave No thing that claims a tear . 9 And now I'm in the world alone , Upon the wide , wide sea : But why should I for others groan ...
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... o'er the hills expand ! But man would mar them with an impious hand : And when the Almighty lifts his fiercest scourge ' Gainst those who most transgress his high command , With treble vengeance will his hot shafts urge Gaul's locust ...
... o'er the hills expand ! But man would mar them with an impious hand : And when the Almighty lifts his fiercest scourge ' Gainst those who most transgress his high command , With treble vengeance will his hot shafts urge Gaul's locust ...
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Age of Bronze ALEXANDER BAIN Alps ancient ANCIENT ROME Arqua Athens Bards beauty behold beneath blood bosom breast breath brow Byron Cæsar Canto Childe Harold cloth Coloured Conf Crown 8vo Dante dark death deemed deep DICTIONARY doth dream dust dwell earth English Epirus Essays fair fame feel foes Frederick Barbarossa French gaze Giaour Glory Glossary glow Greece Greek hath heart Heaven History Idlesse Illustrations immortal JOHN STUART MILL JOHN TYNDALL land Lord M.A. late maid Maps Medium 8vo mind mortal mountains Napoleon ne'er o'er Plates poem poet Post 8vo R. A. PROCTOR revised rock Roman Rome ruin scene shore shrine sigh smile song soul Square crown 8vo star STEPPING-STONE tears Temple thee thine things Third Edition thou thought throne tomb Translated Venice vols waves wild wind Woodcuts youth
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162 ページ - The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee and arbiter of war,— These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride or spoils of Trafalgar.
98 ページ - And this is in the night: — Most glorious night! Thou wert not sent for slumber! let me be A sharer in thy fierce and far delight, — A portion of the tempest and of thee!
96 ページ - Clear, placid Leman ! thy contrasted lake, With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake , Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction ; once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
74 ページ - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men ; A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell...
150 ページ - He heard it, but he heeded not - his eyes 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?
99 ページ - Sky, mountains, river, winds, lake, lightnings! ye, With night, and clouds, and thunder, and a soul To make these felt and feeling, well may be Things that have made me watchful; the far roll Of your departing voices, is the knoll Of what in me is sleepless, — if I rest. But where of ye, O tempests! is the goal? Are ye like those within the human breast? Or do ye find at length, like eagles, some high nest?
75 ページ - Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress...
77 ページ - 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! The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent The earth is covered thick with other clay, Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent, Rider and horse, — friend, foe, — in one red burial blent ! XXIX.
106 ページ - 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...
76 ページ - The foe! They come! They come!" And wild and high the "Cameron's gathering" rose! The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: — How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their...