The Complete Poetical WorksHoughton Mifflin, 1905 - Всего страниц: 1055 |
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Стр. 8
... arms had lost : For chiefs like ours in vain may laurels bloom ! Woe to the conqu'ring , not the con- quer'd host , Since baffled Triumph droops on Lusita- nia's coast ! XXVI And ever since that martial synod met , Britannia sickens ...
... arms had lost : For chiefs like ours in vain may laurels bloom ! Woe to the conqu'ring , not the con- quer'd host , Since baffled Triumph droops on Lusita- nia's coast ! XXVI And ever since that martial synod met , Britannia sickens ...
Стр. 10
... arms that glitter in the air ! What gallant War - hounds rouse them from their lair , And gnash their fangs , loud yelling for the prey ! All join the chase , but few the triumph share ; The Grave shall bear the chiefest prize away ...
... arms that glitter in the air ! What gallant War - hounds rouse them from their lair , And gnash their fangs , loud yelling for the prey ! All join the chase , but few the triumph share ; The Grave shall bear the chiefest prize away ...
Стр. 13
... arms they emulate her sons , And in the horrid phalanx dare to move , ' Tis but the tender fierceness of the dove , Pecking the hand that hovers o'er her mate : 590 In softness as in firmness far above Remoter females , famed for ...
... arms they emulate her sons , And in the horrid phalanx dare to move , ' Tis but the tender fierceness of the dove , Pecking the hand that hovers o'er her mate : 590 In softness as in firmness far above Remoter females , famed for ...
Стр. 15
... the centre , eager to invade The lord of lowing herds ; but not before The ground with cautious tread is trav- ersed o'er , Lest aught unseen should lurk to thwart his speed : His arms a dart , he fights aloof , nor CANTO THE FIRST 15.
... the centre , eager to invade The lord of lowing herds ; but not before The ground with cautious tread is trav- ersed o'er , Lest aught unseen should lurk to thwart his speed : His arms a dart , he fights aloof , nor CANTO THE FIRST 15.
Стр. 16
... arms assail , Vain are his weapons , vainer is his force . One gallant steed is stretch'd a mangled corse ; Another , hideous sight ! unseam'd ap- His pears , 770 gory chest unveils life's panting source ; Though death - struck , still ...
... arms assail , Vain are his weapons , vainer is his force . One gallant steed is stretch'd a mangled corse ; Another , hideous sight ! unseam'd ap- His pears , 770 gory chest unveils life's panting source ; Though death - struck , still ...
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Adah Anah art thou aught bear beauty behold beneath blood bosom breast breath brow Byron Cæs Cain Calmar Childe Harold dare dark dead dear death deeds deep Doge dost dread dream earth fair fame fate father fear feel gaze Giaour glory grave Greece hand hath hear heart heaven honour hope hour Iden Juan king Lady less Lioni live look look'd lord Lucifer Marino Faliero Michel Steno Morgante mortal Myrrha ne'er never night o'er once PANIA pass'd passion poem SARDANAPALUS satraps scarce scene seem'd shore Sieg Siegendorf sigh sire slave sleep smile song soul spirit Stral strange sweet sword tears thee thine things Thomas Moore thou art thou hast thought turn'd Venice voice wave weep words youth
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Стр. 81 - 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...
Стр. 82 - 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.
Стр. 39 - 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 throng'd the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips — " The foe ! they come ! they come ! " XXVI. And wild and high the
Стр. 38 - 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. 38 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gather'd then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!
Стр. 229 - So we'll go no more a roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, And the moon be still as bright. For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul wears out the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest. Though the night was made for loving, And the day returns too soon, Yet we'll go no more a roving By the light of the moon.
Стр. 311 - Tis Greece, but living Greece no more ! So coldly sweet, so deadly fair, We start, for soul is wanting there. Hers is the loveliness in death, That parts not quite with parting breath ; But beauty with that fearful bloom, That hue which haunts it to the tomb ; Expression's last receding ray, A gilded halo hovering round decay...
Стр. 813 - Were still at least our countrymen. The tyrant of the Chersonese Was freedom's best and bravest friend; That tyrant was Miltiades! Oh that the present hour would lend Another despot of the kind! Such chains as his were sure to bind. Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! On Suli's rock, and Parga's shore, Exists the remnant of a line Such as the Doric mothers bore: And there, perhaps, some seed is sown The Heracleidan blood might own.
Стр. 812 - 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!
Стр. 404 - Which in a palace had grown cold, Had his free breathing been denied The range of the steep mountain's side; But why delay the truth? — he died. I saw, and could not hold his head...