PoemsRoutledge, 1859 |
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Стр. xxxvi
... Thine is the pride of modest worth . Our souls at least congenial meet , Nor can thy lot my rank disgrace ; Our intercourse is not less sweet , Since worth of rank supplies the place . November , 1802 . TO D- IN thee , I fondly hoped to ...
... Thine is the pride of modest worth . Our souls at least congenial meet , Nor can thy lot my rank disgrace ; Our intercourse is not less sweet , Since worth of rank supplies the place . November , 1802 . TO D- IN thee , I fondly hoped to ...
Стр. 6
... thine own creation ; For he who views that witching grace , That perfect form , that lovely face , With eyes admiring , oh ! believe me , He never wishes to deceive thee : Once in thy polish'd mirror glance , Thou'lt there descry that ...
... thine own creation ; For he who views that witching grace , That perfect form , that lovely face , With eyes admiring , oh ! believe me , He never wishes to deceive thee : Once in thy polish'd mirror glance , Thou'lt there descry that ...
Стр. 6
... thine own creation ; For he who views that witching grace , That perfect form , that lovely face , With eyes admiring , oh ! believe me , He never wishes to deceive thee : Once in thy polish'd mirror glance , Thou'lt there descry that ...
... thine own creation ; For he who views that witching grace , That perfect form , that lovely face , With eyes admiring , oh ! believe me , He never wishes to deceive thee : Once in thy polish'd mirror glance , Thou'lt there descry that ...
Стр. 13
... thine own . But when our cheeks with anguish glow'd , When thy sweet lips were join'd to mine , The tears that from my eyelids flow'd Were lost in those which fell from thine . Thou couldst not feel my burning cheek , Thy gushing tears ...
... thine own . But when our cheeks with anguish glow'd , When thy sweet lips were join'd to mine , The tears that from my eyelids flow'd Were lost in those which fell from thine . Thou couldst not feel my burning cheek , Thy gushing tears ...
Стр. 17
... thine own , Renown'd in rank , not far beneath the throne . Yet , Dorset , let not this seduce thy soul To shun fair science , or evade control , Though passive tutors , fearful to dispraise ‡ The titled child , whose future breath may ...
... thine own , Renown'd in rank , not far beneath the throne . Yet , Dorset , let not this seduce thy soul To shun fair science , or evade control , Though passive tutors , fearful to dispraise ‡ The titled child , whose future breath may ...
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Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Adah adieu Aholibamah Anah art thou Athens bard beautiful behold beneath blest blood bosom breast breath brow Byron Cain Calmar canst CATULLUS cheek clouds dare dark dead dear death deeds dread dream dwell earth Edinburgh Review fair falchion fame fate father fear feel fix'd foes forget gaze genius Giaour glory grave Greece grief hand hate hath heard heart heaven hope hour immortal Irad Japh lady lips live Lochlin look Lord Lord Byron Lucifer lyre mind mortal muse ne'er never Newstead Abbey night o'er once Orla Pallas pass'd passion perchance poem pride rhyme Samian wine scarce scene seem'd shore sigh sire sleep smile song soul spirit sweet tears thee thine things thou art thou hast thought throne turn'd twas twill verse voice wave weep wild wing word young youth
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Стр. 501 - Place me on Sunium's marbled steep, Where nothing, save the waves and I, May hear our mutual murmurs sweep; There, swan-like, let me sing and die: A land of slaves shall ne'er be mine— Dash down yon cup of Samian wine!
Стр. 500 - What, silent still ? and silent all ? Ah ! no ;— the voices of the dead Sound like a distant torrent's fall, And answer, ' Let one living head, But one, arise, — we come, we come ! ' Tis but the living who are dumb.
Стр. 500 - Must we but blush? — Our fathers bled. Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead ! Of the three hundred grant but three, To make a new Thermopylae!
Стр. 499 - 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. 351 - Deserved to be dearest of all : In the desert a fountain is springing, In the wide waste there still is a tree, And a bird in the solitude singing, Which speaks to my spirit of thee.
Стр. 512 - Ave Maria ! blessed be the hour ! The time, the clime, the spot, where I so oft Have felt that moment in its fullest power Sink o'er the earth so beautiful and soft, While swung the deep bell in the distant tower. Or the faint dying day-hymn stole aloft, And not a breath crept through the rosy air, And yet the forest leaves seem'd stirr'd with prayer.
Стр. 318 - THERE'S not a joy the world can give like that it takes away When the glow of early thought declines In feeling's dull decay; 'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past.
Стр. 360 - And they were enemies: they met beside The dying embers of an altar-place Where had been heap'da mass of holy things For an unholy usage; they raked up, And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath Blew for a little life, and made a flame Which was a mockery; then they lifted up Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld Each other's aspects — saw, and shriek'd, and died — Even of their mutual hideousness they died, Unknowing who he was upon whose...
Стр. 339 - 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. 333 - Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not; Love may sink by slow decay, But by sudden wrench, believe not Hearts can thus be torn away...