Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A RomauntG.S. Appleton, 1851 - Всего страниц: 287 |
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... less kind they had been more candid . Returning , therefore , to all and each my best thanks for their liberality , on one point alone shall I venture an observation . Amongst the many objections justly urged to the very indifferent ...
... less kind they had been more candid . Returning , therefore , to all and each my best thanks for their liberality , on one point alone shall I venture an observation . Amongst the many objections justly urged to the very indifferent ...
Стр. 6
... less ; but he never was intended as an example , further than to show , that early perversion of mind and morals leads to satiety of past pleasures and disappointment in new ones , and that even the beauties of nature , and the stimulus ...
... less ; but he never was intended as an example , further than to show , that early perversion of mind and morals leads to satiety of past pleasures and disappointment in new ones , and that even the beauties of nature , and the stimulus ...
Стр. 12
... him who hail'd thee , loveliest as thou wast , Such is the most my memory may desire ; Though more than Hope can claim , could Friendship less require ? CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE . CANTO THE FIRST . I. OH 12 TO IANTHE .
... him who hail'd thee , loveliest as thou wast , Such is the most my memory may desire ; Though more than Hope can claim , could Friendship less require ? CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE . CANTO THE FIRST . I. OH 12 TO IANTHE .
Стр. 26
... less luxuriant , smoother vales extend ; Immense horizon - bounded plains succeed ! Far as the eye discerns , withouten end , Spain's realms appear whereon her shepherds tend Flocks , whose rich fleece right well the trader knows— Now ...
... less luxuriant , smoother vales extend ; Immense horizon - bounded plains succeed ! Far as the eye discerns , withouten end , Spain's realms appear whereon her shepherds tend Flocks , whose rich fleece right well the trader knows— Now ...
Стр. 61
... If we were not , would seem to smile the less , Of all that flatter'd , follow'd , sought , and sued ; This is to be alone ; this , this is solitude ! F XXVII . More blest the life of godly eremite , CANTO II . 61 PILGRIMAGE .
... If we were not , would seem to smile the less , Of all that flatter'd , follow'd , sought , and sued ; This is to be alone ; this , this is solitude ! F XXVII . More blest the life of godly eremite , CANTO II . 61 PILGRIMAGE .
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt : and Other Poems George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Полный просмотр - 1812 |
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Albania Ali Pacha amidst amongst ancient Ariosto Arqua Athens beauty behold beneath blood Boccaccio bosom breast breath brow Cæsar CANTO Childe Harold CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE Chioza church Cicero Comitium dark death deem'd deep doth dust dwell earth edit Egeria fair fall fame fate feel Ficus Ruminalis gaze glory gondoliers Greece Greek hand hath heart Heaven hills honour hope hour immortal Italian Italy Julius Cæsar lake land less light live Lord mind mortal mountains Nardini ne'er never o'er once pass pass'd passion Petrarch plain poet Pouqueville rock Roman Rome ruin scatter'd scene seems seen shore sigh smile song soul spirit spot STANZA Storia stream Suetonius Tasso tears temple thee thine things thou thought throne tomb triumph Turks tyrants valley Venetians Venice walls waves winds woes wolf words youth καὶ
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Стр. 121 - 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 ! 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. 120 - 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. 119 - Ye stars ! which are the poetry of heaven ! If in your bright leaves we would read the fate Of men and empires, — 'tis to be forgiven, That in our aspirations to be great, Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state, And claim a kindred with you ; for ye are A beauty and a mystery, and create In us such love and reverence from afar, That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star.
Стр. 198 - Ye Elements ! — in whose ennobling stir I feel myself exalted — Can ye not Accord me such a being? Do I err In deeming such inhabit many a spot ? Though with them to converse can rarely be our lot.
Стр. 122 - 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. 91 - Welcome to their roar! Swift be their guidance, wheresoe'er it lead !' Though the strain'd mast should quiver as a reed, And the rent canvas fluttering strew the gale, Still must I on : for I am as a weed, Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam, to sail Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail.
Стр. 100 - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms, — the day Battle's magnificently stern array! The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent The earth is covered thick with other clay, Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent, Rider and horse, — friend, foe, — in one red burial blent!
Стр. 179 - Of its own beauty is the mind diseased, And fevers into false creation : — where, Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath seized ? In him alone. Can Nature show so fair...
Стр. 162 - The roar of waters ! — from the headlong height Velino cleaves the wave-worn precipice ; The fall of waters ! rapid as the light The flashing mass foams shaking the abyss; The hell of waters ! where they howl and hiss, And boil in endless torture ; while the sweat Of their great agony, wrung out from this Their Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jet That gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set, LXX.
Стр. 184 - But I have lived, and have not lived in vain ; My mind may lose its force, my blood its fire; And my frame perish even in conquering pain, But there is that within me which shall tire Torture and Time, and breathe when I expire...