Childe Harold's pilgrimage. Illustr. ed |
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Стр. 46
... the column - scattering bay'net jar , The falchion flash , and o'er the yet warm dead Stalks with Minerva's step where Mars might quake to tread . LV . Ye who shall marvel when you hear her. 46 CANTO 1 . CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE.
... the column - scattering bay'net jar , The falchion flash , and o'er the yet warm dead Stalks with Minerva's step where Mars might quake to tread . LV . Ye who shall marvel when you hear her. 46 CANTO 1 . CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE.
Стр. 64
... dead ? Look o'er the ravage of the reeking plain ; Look on the hands with female slaughter red ; Then to the dogs resign the unburied slain , Then to the vulture let each corse remain , Albeit unworthy of the prey - bird's maw ; Let ...
... dead ? Look o'er the ravage of the reeking plain ; Look on the hands with female slaughter red ; Then to the dogs resign the unburied slain , Then to the vulture let each corse remain , Albeit unworthy of the prey - bird's maw ; Let ...
Стр. 65
... dead , Have won for Spain her well - asserted right . When shall her Olive - Branch be free from blight ? When shall she breathe her from the blushing toil ? How many a doubtful day shall sink in night , Ere the Frank robber turn him ...
... dead , Have won for Spain her well - asserted right . When shall her Olive - Branch be free from blight ? When shall she breathe her from the blushing toil ? How many a doubtful day shall sink in night , Ere the Frank robber turn him ...
Стр. 73
... dead When busy Memory flashes on my brain ? Well - I will dream that we may meet again , And woo the vision to my vacant breast : If aught of young Remembrance then remain , Be as it may Futurity's behest , For me ' t were bliss enough ...
... dead When busy Memory flashes on my brain ? Well - I will dream that we may meet again , And woo the vision to my vacant breast : If aught of young Remembrance then remain , Be as it may Futurity's behest , For me ' t were bliss enough ...
Стр. 141
... Dead Sea's shore , All ashes to the taste : Did man compute Existence by enjoyment , and count o'er Such hours ' gainst years of life - say , would he name threescore ! XXXV . The Psalmist number'd out the years of man : They are enough ...
... Dead Sea's shore , All ashes to the taste : Did man compute Existence by enjoyment , and count o'er Such hours ' gainst years of life - say , would he name threescore ! XXXV . The Psalmist number'd out the years of man : They are enough ...
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Illustr. Ed Lord George Gordon Byron, Lord Недоступно для просмотра - 2015 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Albanian Ali Pacha Arqua Athens aught beauty behold beneath blest blood bosom breast breath brow caloyer CANTO charms Childe Harold CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE Clarens clime clouds dare dark deem'd deep desolate didst doth dread dust dwell earth earth art Egeria Epirus eternal fair fame fate feel foes gaze Giaour glory glow grave Greece Greek hand hath heart Heaven hills Historical Illustrations honour hope hour hyæna Idlesse immortal Italy lake land less light live lone look Lord Byron mighty mind mortal mountains Nature's ne'er never o'er once pass pass'd passion plain poem Pouqueville proud Rhine roar rock Roman Rome ruin scatter'd scene shore shrine sigh skies slave smile song soul spirit spot star stern stream sweet tears temple thee thine things thou thought throne tomb tower tyrants Venice walls waves wild wind woes youth
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Стр. 160 - And this is in the night : — Most glorious night ! Thou wert not sent for slumber ! let me be A sharer in thy fierce and' far delight,— A portion of the tempest and of thee...
Стр. 269 - His steps are not upon thy paths— thy fields Are not a spoil for him— thou dost arise And shake him from thee ; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth — there let him lay.
Стр. 271 - 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. 162 - Could I embody and unbosom now That which is most within me, — could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings, strong or weak, All that I would have sought, and all I seek, Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe— into one word, And that one word were Lightning, I would speak ; But as it is, I live and die unheard, With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword.
Стр. 125 - Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated; who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise...
Стр. 269 - 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 deed, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.
Стр. 249 - I see before me the gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand ; his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low ; And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him ; he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
Стр. 157 - He is an evening reveller, who makes His life an infancy, and sings his fill; At intervals, some bird from out the brakes Starts into voice a moment, then is still. There seems a floating whisper on the hill, But that is fancy, for the starlight dews All silently their tears of love instil, Weeping themselves away, till they infuse Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues.
Стр. 124 - 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.
Стр. 195 - The moon is up, and yet it is not night; Sunset divides the sky with her; a sea Of glory streams along the Alpine height Of blue Friuli's mountains; Heaven is free From clouds, but of all colours seems to be, — Melted to one vast Iris of the West, — Where the Day joins the past Eternity, While, on the other hand, meek Dian's crest Floats through the azure air — an island of the blest!