The works of lord Byron: with his letters and journals, and his life, by T. Moore

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Стр. 64 - When I was yet a child, no childish play To me was pleasing ; all my mind was set Serious to learn and know, and thence to do What might be public good; myself I thought Born to that end, born to promote all truth, All righteous things...
Стр. 307 - Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild; Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his...
Стр. 196 - But wild beasts of the desert shall lie there; and their houses shall be full of doleful creatures; and owls shall dwell there, and satyrs shall dance there.
Стр. 311 - What elegance and grandeur wide expand, The pride of Turkey and of Persia land ? Soft quilts on quilts, on carpets carpets spread, And couches stretch'd around in seemly band ; And endless pillows rise to prop the head ; So that each spacious room was one full-swelling bed.
Стр. 309 - Maid of Athens, ere we part, Give, oh, give me back my heart! Or, since that has left my breast, Keep it now, and take the rest! Hear my vow before I go, ZtoT) p,ou, ads d^aira>. By those tresses unconfined, Woo'd by each /Egean wind; By those lids whose jetty fringe Kiss thy soft cheeks...
Стр. 195 - I hold virtue, in general, or the virtues severally, to be only in the disposition, each a feeling, not a principle. I believe truth the prime attribute of the Deity, and death an eternal sleep, at least of the body. You have here a brief compendium of the sentiments of the wicked George, Lord Byron ; and, till I get a new suit, you will perceive I am badly cloathed.
Стр. 34 - Auld Lang Syne" brings Scotland, one and all, Scotch plaids, Scotch snoods, the blue hills, and clear streams, The Dee, the Don, Balgounie's brig's black wall, All my boy feelings, all my gentler dreams Of what I then dreamt, clothed in their own pall, Like Banquo's offspring: — floating past me seems My childhood, in this childishness of mine: I care not — 'tis a glimpse of "Auld Lang Syne.
Стр. 52 - Brighten'd, and for a moment seem'd to roam, He squeezed from out a rag some drops of rain Into his dying child's mouth — but in vain.
Стр. 63 - without a beating of the heart even now, and I write it with the feelings of 1803-4-5, ad infinitum.
Стр. 22 - I strode through the pine-covered 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 ua Garr.

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