The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: Prisoner of Chillon. Manfred. Lament of Tasso, &cJohn Murray, 1818 |
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Стр. 9
... mountain rills , Unless he could assuage the woe Which he abhorr'd to view below . V. The other was as pure of mind , But formed to combat with his kind ; Strong in his frame , and of a mood Which ' gainst the world in war had stood ...
... mountain rills , Unless he could assuage the woe Which he abhorr'd to view below . V. The other was as pure of mind , But formed to combat with his kind ; Strong in his frame , and of a mood Which ' gainst the world in war had stood ...
Стр. 11
... and put away his food ; It was not that ' twas coarse and rude , For we were used to hunter's fare , And for the like had little care : 119 130 The milk drawn from the mountain goat Was changed for THE PRISONER OF CHILLON . 11.
... and put away his food ; It was not that ' twas coarse and rude , For we were used to hunter's fare , And for the like had little care : 119 130 The milk drawn from the mountain goat Was changed for THE PRISONER OF CHILLON . 11.
Стр. 12
... mountain's side ; But why delay the truth ? ―he died . I saw , and could not hold his head , Nor reach his dying hand - nor dead , Though hard I strove , but strove in vain , To rend and gnash my bonds in twain . He died - and they ...
... mountain's side ; But why delay the truth ? ―he died . I saw , and could not hold his head , Nor reach his dying hand - nor dead , Though hard I strove , but strove in vain , To rend and gnash my bonds in twain . He died - and they ...
Стр. 23
... thought of them had made me mad ; But I was curious to ascend To my barr'd windows , and to bend 320 Once more , upon the mountains high , The quiet of a loving eye . 330 XIII . I saw them - and they were the THE PRISONER OF CHILLON . 23.
... thought of them had made me mad ; But I was curious to ascend To my barr'd windows , and to bend 320 Once more , upon the mountains high , The quiet of a loving eye . 330 XIII . I saw them - and they were the THE PRISONER OF CHILLON . 23.
Стр. 24
... A small green isle , it seem'd no more , Scarce broader than my dungeon floor , But in it there were three tall trees , And o'er it blew the mountain breeze , 340 And by it there were waters flowing , And on 24 THE PRISONER OF CHILLON .
... A small green isle , it seem'd no more , Scarce broader than my dungeon floor , But in it there were three tall trees , And o'er it blew the mountain breeze , 340 And by it there were waters flowing , And on 24 THE PRISONER OF CHILLON .
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
ABBOT Alps answer Arimanes ASTARTE beautiful BEN JONSON beneath bird blood Bonnivard breath brow Cantos castle chain CHAMOIS HUNTER change came o'er clay clouds cold curse darkness death despair destiny doth dread dream dungeon dwell earth Edition eternal Exit MANFRED eyes fatal fear feel Ferrara fetters Gadara Geneve grave grief hath heart heaven her's HERMAN hour immortal LAMENT OF TASSO light live look LORD LORD BYRON MANUEL mind mix'd mortal mountain NEMESIS night nivard o'er the spirit ocean Pausanias pause perish'd Poem PRISONER OF CHILLON qu'il rise SCENE shadow slumber smile solitude soul speak star stood strange sunbow's tears thee thine things THOMAS CAMPBELL thou art thou didst thou dost thoughts thyself torrent torture twas twere Twill voice walls WALTER SCOTT wandering wave WILLIAM GIFFORD wind WITCH words wreck wretched ΜΑΝ Аввот
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Стр. 21 - For he would never thus have flown, And left me twice so doubly lone, — Lone — as the corse within its shroud, Lone — as a solitary cloud, A single cloud on a sunny day, While all the rest of heaven is clear, A frown upon the atmosphere, That hath no business to appear When skies are blue, and earth is gay.
Стр. 2 - To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. 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. 15 - He faded, and so calm and meek, So softly worn, so sweetly weak, So tearless, yet so tender, kind, And grieved for those he left behind ; With all the while a cheek whose bloom Was as a mockery of the tomb, Whose tints as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray...
Стр. 6 - 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. 85 - Though thy slumber may be deep Yet thy spirit shall not sleep; There are shades which will not vanish, There are thoughts thou canst not banish...
Стр. 15 - ... as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray — An eye of most transparent light, That almost made the dungeon bright, And not a word of murmur — not A groan o'er his untimely lot, — A little talk of better days, A little hope my own...
Стр. 27 - With spiders I had friendship made, And watched them in their sullen trade; Had seen the mice by moonlight play — And why should I feel less than they? We were all inmates of one place, And I, the monarch of each race, Had power to kill; yet, strange to tell! In quiet we had learned to dwell. My very chains and I grew friends, So much a long communion tends To make us what we are: — even I Regained my freedom with a sigh.
Стр. 52 - That in the antique oratory shook His bosom in its solitude; and then — As in that hour — a moment o'er his face The tablet of unutterable thoughts Was traced — and then it faded as it came...
Стр. 30 - Though the day of my destiny's over, And the star of my fate hath declined, Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could find ; Though thy soul with my grief was acquainted, It shrunk not to share it with me, And the love which my spirit hath painted It never hath found but in thee.
Стр. 50 - Boy was sprung to manhood: in the wilds Of fiery climes he made himself a home, And his Soul drank their sunbeams: he was girt With strange and dusky aspects; he was not Himself like what he had been; on the sea And on the shore he was a wanderer; There was a mass of many images Crowded like waves upon me...