Byron's Childe Harold (canto IV): Prisoner of Chillon and Other SelectionsAmerican Book Company, 1911 - Всего страниц: 170 |
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Стр. 19
... wall is fallen and left ; Creeping o'er the floor so damp , Like a marsh's meteor lamp : 2 And in each pillar there is a ring , And in each ring there is a chain ; That iron is a cankering thing , For in these limbs its teeth remain ...
... wall is fallen and left ; Creeping o'er the floor so damp , Like a marsh's meteor lamp : 2 And in each pillar there is a ring , And in each ring there is a chain ; That iron is a cankering thing , For in these limbs its teeth remain ...
Стр. 22
... walls : 2 A thousand feet in depth below Its massy waters meet and flow ; Thus much the fathom line was sent From Chillon's snow - white battlement , Which round about the wave inthralls : A double dungeon wall and wave Have made and ...
... walls : 2 A thousand feet in depth below Its massy waters meet and flow ; Thus much the fathom line was sent From Chillon's snow - white battlement , Which round about the wave inthralls : A double dungeon wall and wave Have made and ...
Стр. 27
... walls and floor Close slowly round me as before , I saw the glimmer of the sun 260 Creeping as it before had done , But through the crevice where it came 265 That bird was perched , 1 as fond and tame , And tamer than upon the tree ; A ...
... walls and floor Close slowly round me as before , I saw the glimmer of the sun 260 Creeping as it before had done , But through the crevice where it came 265 That bird was perched , 1 as fond and tame , And tamer than upon the tree ; A ...
Стр. 29
... wall , It was not therefrom to escape , For I had buried one and all 320 Who loved me in a human shape ; And the whole earth would henceforth be A wider prison unto me : No child , no sire , no kin had I , No partner in my misery ; 325 ...
... wall , It was not therefrom to escape , For I had buried one and all 320 Who loved me in a human shape ; And the whole earth would henceforth be A wider prison unto me : No child , no sire , no kin had I , No partner in my misery ; 325 ...
Стр. 30
... wall , And they seemed joyous each and all ; The eagle rode the rising blast , Methought he never flew so fast As then to me he seemed to fly ; 355 And then new tears came in my eye , And I felt troubled - and would fain I had not left ...
... wall , And they seemed joyous each and all ; The eagle rode the rising blast , Methought he never flew so fast As then to me he seemed to fly ; 355 And then new tears came in my eye , And I felt troubled - and would fain I had not left ...
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Bards battle of Pultowa beauty beheld beneath blood Boccaccio born breast breath bright brow Byron Cæsar Canto chain Childe Harold Childe Harold's Pilgrimage clay cloud cold Cossack courser dark dead death deemed deep died divine dost doth dread dungeon dust dwell earth Egeria eternal eyes fame feel fettered foam gaze glory grave Greece Greek hath heart heaven Hetman hope horse hour immortal Italy king lake limbs literary Lord Mazeppa mighty mind monarch mother mountain Nature's Newstead Abbey night o'er ocean once pain Perchance Petrarch poem poet poetry Prisoner of Chillon proud Roman Rome round ruin Samian wine shore sigh sire skies smile song soul spirit stanzas star steed sword tears thee thine things thou thought thousand throne tomb TOZER tree twas tyrant Ukraine Venice walls waters waves wild wind woes youth ΙΟ
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Стр. 155 - Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave. A king sate on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis; And ships by thousands lay below, And men in nations; — all were his! He counted them at break of day, And when the sun set, where were they?
Стр. 74 - 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!
Стр. 151 - 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.
Стр. 151 - 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.
Стр. 75 - 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 thronged the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips - 'The foe! they come! they come!
Стр. 84 - 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 : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Стр. 150 - 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...
Стр. 137 - Were with his heart, and that was far away. He recked not of the life he lost, nor prize; But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother, — he, their sire, Butchered to make a Roman holiday!
Стр. 17 - Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar; for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard! — May none those marks efface! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
Стр. 152 - And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers — they to me Were a delight : and if the freshening sea Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.