Childe Harold's Pilgrimage,: A Romaunt: and Other PoemsThomas Davison, 1814 - 304 páginas |
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Página 21
... rest ye at our " Lady's house of woe ; " 2 Where frugal monks their little relics show , And sundry legends to the stranger tell : Here impious men have punish'd been , and lo ! Deep in yon cave Honorius long did dwell , In hope to ...
... rest ye at our " Lady's house of woe ; " 2 Where frugal monks their little relics show , And sundry legends to the stranger tell : Here impious men have punish'd been , and lo ! Deep in yon cave Honorius long did dwell , In hope to ...
Página 25
... rest him on his pilgrimage ; And o'er him many changing scenes must roll Ere toil his thirst for travel can assuage , Or he shall calm his breast , or learn experience sage . XXIX . Yet Mafra shall one moment claim delay 5 Where dwelt ...
... rest him on his pilgrimage ; And o'er him many changing scenes must roll Ere toil his thirst for travel can assuage , Or he shall calm his breast , or learn experience sage . XXIX . Yet Mafra shall one moment claim delay 5 Where dwelt ...
Página 35
... rest , Wide scatter'd hoof - marks dint the wounded ground ; And , scath'd by fire , the green sward's darken'd vest Tells that the foe was Andalusia's guest : Here was the camp , the watch - flame , and the host , Here the bold peasant ...
... rest , Wide scatter'd hoof - marks dint the wounded ground ; And , scath'd by fire , the green sward's darken'd vest Tells that the foe was Andalusia's guest : Here was the camp , the watch - flame , and the host , Here the bold peasant ...
Página 45
... rest ; What hallows it upon this Christian shore ? Lo ! it is sacred to a solemn feast : Hark ! heard you not the forest - monarch's roar ? Crashing the lance , he snuffs the spouting gore Of man and steed , o'erthrown beneath his horn ...
... rest ; What hallows it upon this Christian shore ? Lo ! it is sacred to a solemn feast : Hark ! heard you not the forest - monarch's roar ? Crashing the lance , he snuffs the spouting gore Of man and steed , o'erthrown beneath his horn ...
Página 52
... rest , or flies ; And Vice , that digs her own voluptuous tomb , Had buried long his hopes , no more to rise : Pleasure's pall'd victim ! life - abhorring gloom Wrote on his faded brow curst Cain's unresting doom . LXXXIV . Still he ...
... rest , or flies ; And Vice , that digs her own voluptuous tomb , Had buried long his hopes , no more to rise : Pleasure's pall'd victim ! life - abhorring gloom Wrote on his faded brow curst Cain's unresting doom . LXXXIV . Still he ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt, Parte3 George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Sin vista previa disponible - 1841 |
Términos y frases comunes
Albania Ali Pacha amongst ancient Arnaout Athens aught beautiful behold beneath bosom breast Caimacam caloyer charms Childe Harold Childe Harold's Pilgrimage clime Constantinople Coray dark dear deem'd dread earth Epirus ev'n fair feel gaze Giaour Greece Greeks hath heart honour hope hour land Leander lonely Lord lov'd maid Moslem mountains ne'er never o'er once Pacha pang pass'd Pindus Pouqueville rock Romaic scene shore shrine sigh smile song sooth soul Spain Stanza sweet tear thee thine thing Thornton thou art thou hast thought translation Turkish Turks wave weep youth Zitza ἀγαπῶ ἂν Ας δὲ δὲν δὲν εἶναι Διὰ νὰ εἶναι εἰς τὴν εἰς τὸ Ελλήνων ἐν ἕνα ἡμεῖς ἡμῶν ἦν θέλει Θηβαῖος καὶ κὴ με νὰ οἱ πῶς σᾶς σε τὰ τὰς τε τῇ τῆς τὸ τὸν τῶν ὡς
Pasajes populares
Página 109 - Hereditary bondsmen ! know ye not Who would be free themselves must strike the blow ? By their right arms the conquest must be wrought? Will Gaul or Muscovite redress ye? no!
Página 17 - And now I'm in the world alone, Upon the wide, wide sea: But why should I for others groan, When none will sigh for me? Perchance my dog will whine in vain, Till fed by stranger hands; But long ere I come back again He'd tear me where he stands.
Página 13 - Adieu, adieu! my native shore Fades o'er the waters blue; The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar, And shrieks the wild sea-mew. Yon sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight; Farewell awhile to him and thee, My native Land - Good Night!
Página 80 - But midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men, To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess, And roam along, the world's tired denizen, With none who bless us, none whom we can bless ; Minions of splendour shrinking from distress ! None that, with kindred consciousness endued, If we were not, would seem to smile the less Of all that flatter'd, follow'd, sought, and sued ; This is to be alone ; this, this is solitude...
Página 31 - 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.
Página 70 - Look on its broken arch, its ruined wall, Its chambers desolate, and portals foul : Yes, this was once Ambition's airy hall, The Dome of Thought, the Palace of the Soul...
Página 120 - What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loved one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth, as I am now.
Página 39 - Her lover sinks — she sheds no ill-timed tear ; Her chief is slain — she fills his fatal post ; Her fellows flee — she checks their base career ; The foe retires — she heads the sallying host : Who can appease like her a lover's ghost ? Who can avenge so well a leader's fall?
Página 79 - 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.
Página 113 - A thousand years scarce serve to form a state ; An hour may lay it in the dust : and when Can man its shatter'd splendour renovate, Recall its virtues back, and vanquish Time and Fate?