Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A RomauntJ. Murray, 1869 - 329 páginas |
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Página 10
... younger hearts shall bleed , Mine shall escape the doom thine eyes assign To those whose admiration shall succeed , But mix'd with pangs to Love's even loveliest hours decreed . Oh let that eye , which , wild as the 10 TO IANTHE.
... younger hearts shall bleed , Mine shall escape the doom thine eyes assign To those whose admiration shall succeed , But mix'd with pangs to Love's even loveliest hours decreed . Oh let that eye , which , wild as the 10 TO IANTHE.
Página 19
... hour ; The heartless parasites of present cheer . Yea ! none did love him - not his lemans dear- But pomp and power alone are woman's care , And where these are light Eros finds a feere ; Maidens , like moths , are ever caught by glare ...
... hour ; The heartless parasites of present cheer . Yea ! none did love him - not his lemans dear- But pomp and power alone are woman's care , And where these are light Eros finds a feere ; Maidens , like moths , are ever caught by glare ...
Página 21
... 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 ! 2 . A few short hours and he will rise CANTO 1 . IS CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE 21.
... 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 ! 2 . A few short hours and he will rise CANTO 1 . IS CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE 21.
Página 22
A Romaunt George Gordon Byron Baron Byron. 2 . A few short hours and he will rise To give the morrow birth ; And I shall hail the main and skies , But not my mother earth . Deserted is my own good hall , Its hearth is desolate ; Wild ...
A Romaunt George Gordon Byron Baron Byron. 2 . A few short hours and he will rise To give the morrow birth ; And I shall hail the main and skies , But not my mother earth . Deserted is my own good hall , Its hearth is desolate ; Wild ...
Página 41
... hour ! ' Gainst fate to strive Where Desolation plants her famish'd brood Is vain , or Ilion , Tyre might yet ... hours consume , Nor bleed these patriots with their country's wounds ; G XLVII . Not so the rustic with his trembling mate ...
... hour ! ' Gainst fate to strive Where Desolation plants her famish'd brood Is vain , or Ilion , Tyre might yet ... hours consume , Nor bleed these patriots with their country's wounds ; G XLVII . Not so the rustic with his trembling mate ...
Términos y frases comunes
Acarnania Albanian Ali Pacha ancient Athens aught Aventicum beauty beheld beneath blood bosom breast breath brow CANTO charms Childe Harold Clarens clime Constantinople dark deem'd deep desolate dome doth dread dust dwell earth Edinburgh Review Epirus fair fame fate feel foes gaze Giaours glory glow Greece Greeks hand hath heart Heaven honour hope hour immortal Italy J. W. Whymper Joannina lake land less live look Lord Byron Mafra maid mighty mind mortal mountains Nature's ne'er never NEWSTEAD ABBEY o'er once Pacha pass'd passion Percival Skelton plain poem Pouqueville pride proud rock Romaic Roman Rome ruins S. C. Malan scatter'd scene shore shrine sigh skies slave smile song soul spirit spot stanzas star stern sweet tear temple thee thine things thou thought throne tomb Turks tyrants Venice walls waves wild wind woes youth
Pasajes populares
Página 280 - 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.
Página 259 - I see before me the Gladiator lie: He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his droop'd head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena swims around him! — He is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won.
Página 230 - The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, Ye!
Página 170 - The sky is changed! - and such a change! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!
Página 137 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, - alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valour, rolling on the foe And burning with high hope shall moulder cold and low.
Página 279 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean - roll ! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin - his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own.
Página 280 - Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since; their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts : not so thou ; Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play, Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow : Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.
Página 167 - ... 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.
Página 173 - The morn is up again, the dewy morn, With breath all incense, and with cheek all bloom, Laughing the clouds away with playful scorn, And living as if earth contain'd no tomb, — And glowing into day : we may resume The march of our existence...
Página 146 - He who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow ; He who surpasses or subdues mankind, Must look down on the hate of those below. Though high above the sun of glory glow, And far beneath the earth and ocean spread, Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow Contending tempests on his naked head, And thus reward the toils which to those summits led.