Childe Harold's Pilgrimage,: A Romaunt: and Other PoemsThomas Davison, 1814 - 304 páginas |
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Página 12
... thought , nor from his lips did come One word of wail , whilst others sate and wept , And to the reckless gales unmanly moaning kept . XIII . But when the sun was sinking in the sea He seiz'd his harp , which he at times could string ...
... thought , nor from his lips did come One word of wail , whilst others sate and wept , And to the reckless gales unmanly moaning kept . XIII . But when the sun was sinking in the sea He seiz'd his harp , which he at times could string ...
Página 24
... thought to flee , More restless than the swallow in the skies : Though here awhile he learn'd to moralize , For Meditation fix'd at times on him ; And conscious Reason whisper'd to despise His early youth , mispent in maddest whim ; But ...
... thought to flee , More restless than the swallow in the skies : Though here awhile he learn'd to moralize , For Meditation fix'd at times on him ; And conscious Reason whisper'd to despise His early youth , mispent in maddest whim ; But ...
Página 55
... Thought . 7 . Yet others rapt in pleasure seem , And taste of all that I forsake ; Oh ! may they still of transport dream , And ne'er , at least like me , awake ! 8 . Through many a clime ' tis mine to CANTO I. 55 PILGRIMAGE .
... Thought . 7 . Yet others rapt in pleasure seem , And taste of all that I forsake ; Oh ! may they still of transport dream , And ne'er , at least like me , awake ! 8 . Through many a clime ' tis mine to CANTO I. 55 PILGRIMAGE .
Página 65
... and ages slow , Is the dread sceptre and dominion dire Of men who never felt the sacred glow That thoughts of thee and thine on polish'd breasts bestow . F II . Ancient of days ! august Athena ! where Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. ...
... and ages slow , Is the dread sceptre and dominion dire Of men who never felt the sacred glow That thoughts of thee and thine on polish'd breasts bestow . F II . Ancient of days ! august Athena ! where Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. ...
Página 68
... Thought , the palace of the Soul : Behold through each lack - lustre , eyeless hole , The gay recess of Wisdom and of Wit And Passion's host , that never brook'd control : Can all , saint , sage , or sophist ever writ , People this ...
... Thought , the palace of the Soul : Behold through each lack - lustre , eyeless hole , The gay recess of Wisdom and of Wit And Passion's host , that never brook'd control : Can all , saint , sage , or sophist ever writ , People this ...
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?