The Poetical Works of Lord Byron: Complete in One VolumeD. Appleton & Company, 1850 - 829 |
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Strona 25
... dead ? Look o'er the ravage of the reeking plain ; Look on the hands with female slaughter red ; Then to the dogs resign the unburied slain , Then to the vulture let each corse remain ; Albeit unworthy of the prey - bird's maw , [ stain ...
... dead ? Look o'er the ravage of the reeking plain ; Look on the hands with female slaughter red ; Then to the dogs resign the unburied slain , Then to the vulture let each corse remain ; Albeit unworthy of the prey - bird's maw , [ stain ...
Strona 27
... dead , When busy memory flashes on my brain ? Well - I will dream that we may meet again , And woo the vision to my vacant breast : If aught of young Remembrance then remain , Be as it may Futurity's behest , For me ' twere bliss enough ...
... dead , When busy memory flashes on my brain ? Well - I will dream that we may meet again , And woo the vision to my vacant breast : If aught of young Remembrance then remain , Be as it may Futurity's behest , For me ' twere bliss enough ...
Strona 42
... Dead Sea's shore , All ashes to the taste : Did man compute Existence by enjoyment , and count o'er Such hours ' gainst years of life , -say , would he name threescore ? XXXV . The Psalmist number'd out the years of man : They are ...
... Dead Sea's shore , All ashes to the taste : Did man compute Existence by enjoyment , and count o'er Such hours ' gainst years of life , -say , would he name threescore ? XXXV . The Psalmist number'd out the years of man : They are ...
Strona 53
... dead Are honor'd by the nations - let it be- And light the laurels on a loftier head ! And be the Spartan's epitaph on me 66 Sparta hath many a worthier son than he . " Meantime I seek no sympathies , nor need ; The thorns which I have ...
... dead Are honor'd by the nations - let it be- And light the laurels on a loftier head ! And be the Spartan's epitaph on me 66 Sparta hath many a worthier son than he . " Meantime I seek no sympathies , nor need ; The thorns which I have ...
Strona 58
... dead find room , Nor claim a passing sigh , because it told for whom . LIX . And Santa Croce wants their mighty dust ; Yet for this want more noted , as of yore The Caesar's pageant , shorn of Brutus ' bust , Did but of Rome's best Son ...
... dead find room , Nor claim a passing sigh , because it told for whom . LIX . And Santa Croce wants their mighty dust ; Yet for this want more noted , as of yore The Caesar's pageant , shorn of Brutus ' bust , Did but of Rome's best Son ...
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Adah Aholibamah Anah aught bard bear beauty behold beneath blood bosom breast breath brow Cain Calmar canto chief Childe Harold dare dark dead death deeds deep Doge Doge of Venice dost dread earth fame fate father fear feel gaze Giaour grave Greece hand hath hear heard heart heaven honor hope hour Iden Japh leave less Lioni live look Lord Byron Lucifer Marino Faliero mind mortal mountains Myrrha ne'er never night noble o'er once palace PANIA Parisina pass'd passion poem poet Sardanapalus scarce scene seem'd shore Sieg Siegendorf sigh sire slave smile soul spirit Stral strange tears thee thine things thou art thought twas Twill Ulric unto Venice verse voice walls wave wild words wouldst young youth
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 40 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet But hark!
Strona 71 - Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests ; in all time, . Calm or convulsed, in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving ; boundless, endless, and sublime, The image of Eternity, the throne Of the invisible, — even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made ; each zone Obeys thee ; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Strona 47 - 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.
Strona 29 - 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.
Strona 40 - Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro. And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness: And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts; and choking sighs, Which ne'er might be repeated...
Strona 55 - Fill'd with the face of heaven, which, from afar, Comes down upon the waters ; all its hues, From the rich sunset to the rising star, Their magical variety diffuse : And now they change ; a paler shadow strews Its mantle o'er the mountains ; parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till — 'tis gone — and all is gray.
Strona 40 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While throng'd the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips — "The foe, they come! they come!" And wild and high the "Cameron's gathering
Strona 150 - And then there was a little isle, Which in my very face did smile, The only one in view ; A small green isle, it seemed no more, Scarce broader than my dungeon floor, But in it there were three tall trees, And o'er it blew the mountain breeze, And by it there were waters flowing, And on it there were young flowers growing, Of gentle breath and hue.
Strona 52 - I STOOD in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs; A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand...
Strona 40 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage-bell; But hush!