The Works of Lord Byron: In Verse and Prose. Including His Letters, Journals, Etc., with a Sketch of His LifeSilas Andrus & son, 1853 - Всего страниц: 946 |
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Стр. 5
... least recollection of and my mind is a chaos of hope and sorrow , To - mor- my visage or person . Even the hero of my Cornelian , † row I set out for London : you will address your answer ( who is now sitting vis - à - vis , reading a ...
... least recollection of and my mind is a chaos of hope and sorrow , To - mor- my visage or person . Even the hero of my Cornelian , † row I set out for London : you will address your answer ( who is now sitting vis - à - vis , reading a ...
Стр. 6
... least so he says . In every bookseller's window I see is having pared off a sufficient quantity of flesh to enable my own name and say nothing , but enjoy my fame in se- me to slip into ' an eel skin , ' and vie with the slim beaux cret ...
... least so he says . In every bookseller's window I see is having pared off a sufficient quantity of flesh to enable my own name and say nothing , but enjoy my fame in se- me to slip into ' an eel skin , ' and vie with the slim beaux cret ...
Стр. 10
... least , in the bindings , paper , & c . of the copy he sent to me . Perhaps those for the public may be more re- spectable in such articles . money , for I have too much business on hand at present to commence an action . Besides ...
... least , in the bindings , paper , & c . of the copy he sent to me . Perhaps those for the public may be more re- spectable in such articles . money , for I have too much business on hand at present to commence an action . Besides ...
Стр. 23
... least intelligence on the state of my affairs , and they the Marquis of Sligo , who expressed a wish to proceed were not in a posture to admit of neglect , and I do con- with me as far as Corinth . At Corinth we separated , ceive and ...
... least intelligence on the state of my affairs , and they the Marquis of Sligo , who expressed a wish to proceed were not in a posture to admit of neglect , and I do con- with me as far as Corinth . At Corinth we separated , ceive and ...
Стр. 25
... least , so got over . they say , and I have nothing to object , as , on the whole , I have no reason to complain of my lot . I am convinced , however , that men do more harm to themselves than ever the devil could do to them . I trust ...
... least , so got over . they say , and I have nothing to object , as , on the whole , I have no reason to complain of my lot . I am convinced , however , that men do more harm to themselves than ever the devil could do to them . I trust ...
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acquaintance answer arrived believe Bologna by-the-way called Canto Childe Harold copy Countess Guiccioli DEAR devil dine Don Juan Edinburgh Review enclosed England English favour feel fellow friends Galignani Giaour Gifford glad Greece Greek hear heard Hobhouse honour hope HOPPNER hundred Italian Italy kind Kinnaird Lady late least LETTER lines living London look Lord Byron Lord Holland Madame Madame de Staël Marino Faliero mean months Moore morning MURRAY never Newstead Newstead Abbey night obliged opinion perhaps person Pisa poem poet poetry Pray present pretty probably published Ravenna received recollect request seen sent sorry stanzas suppose sure talk tell thing thought tion to-morrow told tragedy translation truly Venetian Venice verse week wish word write written wrote yesterday
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Стр. 23 - The sky is changed! - and such a change! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!
Стр. 37 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not man the less, but Nature more...
Стр. 22 - 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.
Стр. 23 - All heaven and earth are still — though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most ; And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep...
Стр. 18 - Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valour, rolling on the foe, And burning with high hope, shall moulder, cold and low.
Стр. 16 - Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child ! Ada ! sole daughter of my house and heart ? When last I saw thy young blue eyes, they smiled, And then we parted, — not as now we part, But with a hope. — Awaking with a start, The waters heave around me ; and on high The winds lift up their voices : I depart, Whither I know not ; but the hour's gone by, When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.
Стр. 22 - Are not the mountains, waves, and skies, a part Of me and of my soul, as I of them? Is not the love of these deep in my heart With a pure passion? should I not contemn All objects, if compared with these?
Стр. 23 - A sharer in thy fierce and far delight, — A portion of the tempest and of thee! How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea, And the big rain comes dancing to the earth ! And now again 'tis black, — and now, the glee Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain-mirth, As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth.
Стр. 15 - tis haunted, holy ground, No earth of thine is lost in vulgar mould, But one vast realm of wonder spreads around, And all the Muse's tales seem truly told, Till the sense aches with gazing to behold The scenes our earliest dreams have dwelt upon: Each hill and dale, each deepening glen and wold Defies the power which crush'd thy temples gone: Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.
Стр. 20 - And peasant girls, with deep blue eyes, And hands which offer early flowers, Walk smiling o'er this paradise ; Above, the frequent feudal towers Through green leaves lift their walls of gray, And many a rock which steeply lowers, And noble arch in proud decay, Look o'er this vale of vintage-bowers.