The Works of Lord Byron, Tom 3Carey, 1843 |
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Strona 19
... sounds now jar me ! Still here ! Is he not A spy of my pursuer's ? His frank offer So suddenly , and to a stranger , wore The aspect of a secret enemy ; For friends are slow at such . Gab . [ Perceiving GABOR . Sir , you seem rapt ; And ...
... sounds now jar me ! Still here ! Is he not A spy of my pursuer's ? His frank offer So suddenly , and to a stranger , wore The aspect of a secret enemy ; For friends are slow at such . Gab . [ Perceiving GABOR . Sir , you seem rapt ; And ...
Strona 59
... . Wer . I do not apprehend you . Ulr . - And should , perhaps and yet That - AB be- may but get ye ready ; You and my mother must away to - night . Here comes the intendant : sound him with the gem SCENE 1 . A TRAGEDY . 59.
... . Wer . I do not apprehend you . Ulr . - And should , perhaps and yet That - AB be- may but get ye ready ; You and my mother must away to - night . Here comes the intendant : sound him with the gem SCENE 1 . A TRAGEDY . 59.
Strona 60
George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Thomas Moore. Here comes the intendant : sound him with the gem ; " T will sink into his venal soul like lead Into the deep , and bring up slime and mud , And ooze too , from the bottom , as the lead doth ...
George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Thomas Moore. Here comes the intendant : sound him with the gem ; " T will sink into his venal soul like lead Into the deep , and bring up slime and mud , And ooze too , from the bottom , as the lead doth ...
Strona 64
... sounds for joy , takes something from enjoyment With every clang . " T is a perpetual knell , Though for a marriage ... sound . A light ! It is at distance ( if I can Measure in darkness distance ) : but it blinks As through a crevice ...
... sounds for joy , takes something from enjoyment With every clang . " T is a perpetual knell , Though for a marriage ... sound . A light ! It is at distance ( if I can Measure in darkness distance ) : but it blinks As through a crevice ...
Strona 74
... sounds so cold , as if you thought upon Our pedigree , and only weigh'd our blood . Uir . ( starting . ) Blood ! Ida . Why does yours start from your cheeks ? Ulr . Ay ! doth it ? Are we not so ? Ida . It doth - but no ! it rushes 74 ...
... sounds so cold , as if you thought upon Our pedigree , and only weigh'd our blood . Uir . ( starting . ) Blood ! Ida . Why does yours start from your cheeks ? Ulr . Ay ! doth it ? Are we not so ? Ida . It doth - but no ! it rushes 74 ...
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Popularne fragmenty
Strona 311 - I strode through the pine-cover'd glade ; I sought not my home till the day's dying glory Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star ; For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story, Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch na Garr. " Shades of the dead ! have I not heard your voices Rise on the night -rolling breath of the gale ? " Surely the soul of the hero rejoices, And rides on the wind, o'er his own Highland vale.
Strona 545 - Of the embrace of angels, with a sex More beautiful than they, which did draw down The erring spirits who can ne'er return. — Most glorious orb ! that wert a worship, ere The mystery of thy making was...
Strona 546 - Which gladden'd, on their mountain tops, the hearts Of the Chaldean shepherds, till they pour'd Themselves in orisons ! thou material God ! And representative of the Unknown — Who chose thee for his shadow...
Strona 361 - ... shows That prose is verse, and verse is merely prose ; Convincing all, by demonstration plain, Poetic souls delight in prose insane ; And Christmas stories tortured into rhyme Contain the essence of the true sublime. Thus, when he tells the tale of Betty Foy, The idiot mother of
Strona 192 - Sublime tobacco ! which from east to west Cheers the tar's labour or the Turkman's rest ; Which on the Moslem's ottoman divides His hours, and rivals opium and his brides ; Magnificent in Stamboul, but less grand, Though not less loved, in Wapping or the Strand...
Strona 185 - We'll cull the flowers that grow above the dead, For these most bloom where rests the warrior's head; And we will sit in twilight's face, and see The sweet moon glancing through the tooa tree, The lofty accents of whose sighing bough Shall sadly please us as we lean below ; Or climb the steep, and view the surf in vain Wrestle with rocky giants o'er the main, Which spurn in columns back the baffled spray. How beautiful are these ! how happy they, Who, from the toil and tumult of their lives, Steal...
Strona 481 - SAINT Peter sat by the celestial gate, His keys were rusty, and the lock was dull, So little trouble had been given of late ; Not that the place by any means was full, But since the Gallic era " eighty-eight," The devils had ta'en a longer, stronger pull, And "a pull altogether," as they say At sea— which drew most souls another way.
Strona 502 - He had written praises of a regicide; He had written praises of all kings whatever; He had written for republics far and wide, And then against them bitterer than ever; For pantisocracy he once had cried Aloud, a scheme less moral than 'twas clever; Then grew a hearty anti-jacobin — Had turn'd his coat — and would have turn'd his skin.
Strona 486 - But bringing up the rear of this bright host A Spirit of a different aspect waved His wings, like thunder-clouds above some coast Whose barren beach with frequent wrecks is paved ; His brow was like the deep when tempest-tossed ; Fierce and unfathomable thoughts engraved Eternal wrath on his immortal face, And where he gazed a gloom pervaded space.
Strona 144 - I feel my immortality o'ersweep All pains, all tears, all time, all fears, and peal, Like the eternal thunders of the deep, Into my ears this truth —