The poetical works of lord Byron, with notes, Volumen11

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Página 13 - ... strange design Against the creed and morals of the land, And trace it in this poem every line: I don't pretend that I quite understand My own meaning when I would be very fine; But the fact is that I have nothing plann'd, Unless it were to be a moment merry, A novel word in my vocabulary.
Página 34 - Thus lived — thus died she ; never more on her Shall sorrow light, or shame. She was not made Through years or moons the inner weight to bear, Which colder hearts endure till they are laid By age in earth : her days and pleasures were Brief, but delightful — such as had not staid Long with her destiny ; but she sleeps well By the sea-shore, whereon she loved to dwell.
Página 232 - All that the mind would shrink from of excesses — All that the body perpetrates of bad; All that we read — hear — dream, of man's distresses — All that the Devil would do if run stark mad; All that defies the worst which pen expresses, — All by which Hell is peopled, or as sad As Hell — mere mortals who their power abuse — Was here (as heretofore and since) let loose.
Página 54 - the Giant's Grave " To watch the progress of those rolling seas Between the Bosphorus, as they lash and lave Europe and Asia, you being quite at ease ; There 's not a sea the passenger e'er pukes in, Turns up more dangerous breakers than the Euxine.
Página 159 - They accuse me — Me — the present writer of The present poem — of — I know not what — A tendency to under-rate and scoff At human power and virtue, and all that ; And this they say in language rather rough.
Página 212 - T is true he shrank from men, even of his nation ; When they built up unto his darling trees, He moved some hundred miles off, for a station...
Página 211 - Of all men, saving Sylla the man-slayer, Who passes for in life and death most lucky, Of the great names which in our faces stare, The General Boon, back-woodsman of Kentucky, Was happiest amongst mortals anywhere; For killing nothing but a bear or buck, he Enjoy'd the lonely, vigorous, harmless days Of his old age in wilds of deepest maze.
Página 34 - Without a groan, or sigh, or glance, to show A parting pang, the spirit from her past : And they who watched her nearest, could not know The very instant, till the change that cast Her sweet face into shadow, dull and slow, Glazed o'er her eyes — the beautiful, the black — Oh ! to possess such lustre— and then lack...
Página 12 - falls into the yellow Leaf,' and Imagination droops her pinion, And the sad truth which hovers o'er my desk Turns what was once romantic to burlesque.
Página 192 - History can only take things in the gross ; But could we know them in detail, perchance In balancing the profit and the loss, War's merit it by no means might enhance, To waste so much gold for a little dross, As hath been done, mere conquest to advance. The drying up a single tear has more Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.

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