The works of lord Byron, comprehending the suppressed poems, Объемы 5-6 |
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Стр. 11
... spirit there ; Secure that nought of evil could delight To walk in such a scene , on such a night ! It was a moment only for the good : 170 So Lara deem'd , nor longer there he stood , But turn'd in silence to his castle - gate ; Such ...
... spirit there ; Secure that nought of evil could delight To walk in such a scene , on such a night ! It was a moment only for the good : 170 So Lara deem'd , nor longer there he stood , But turn'd in silence to his castle - gate ; Such ...
Стр. 18
... spirit seem'd to chide Such weakness , as unworthy of its pride , And steel'd itself , as scorning to redeem One doubt from others ' half withheld esteem ; In self - inflicted penance of a breast 306 Which tenderness might once have ...
... spirit seem'd to chide Such weakness , as unworthy of its pride , And steel'd itself , as scorning to redeem One doubt from others ' half withheld esteem ; In self - inflicted penance of a breast 306 Which tenderness might once have ...
Стр. 19
... spirit equally to crime ; So much he soar'd beyond , or sunk beneath 345 The men with whom he felt condemn'd to breathe , And long'd by good or ill to separate Himself from all who shared his mortal state ; His mind abhorring this had ...
... spirit equally to crime ; So much he soar'd beyond , or sunk beneath 345 The men with whom he felt condemn'd to breathe , And long'd by good or ill to separate Himself from all who shared his mortal state ; His mind abhorring this had ...
Стр. 21
... spirits seem'd to dare you to forget ! XX . 380 385 There is a festival , where knights and dames , And aught that wealth or lofty lineage claims Appear a highborn and a welcome guest To Otho's hall came Lara with the rest . The long ...
... spirits seem'd to dare you to forget ! XX . 380 385 There is a festival , where knights and dames , And aught that wealth or lofty lineage claims Appear a highborn and a welcome guest To Otho's hall came Lara with the rest . The long ...
Стр. 29
... d Each wish , fulfill'd it ere the tongue express'd . Still there was haughtiness in all he did , A spirit deep that brook'd not to be chid ; 550 555 559 His zeal , though more than that of servile hands CANTO I. 29 LARA ..
... d Each wish , fulfill'd it ere the tongue express'd . Still there was haughtiness in all he did , A spirit deep that brook'd not to be chid ; 550 555 559 His zeal , though more than that of servile hands CANTO I. 29 LARA ..
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ABBOT Alhama apostolic palace art thou ASTARTE beautiful behold beneath Beppo blood Bonnivard bosom breast breath brow call'd Cavalier Servente CHAMOIS clouds cold courser dare dark Darvell dead death deep doth dread dream earth Ezzelin falchion fame fate fear feel fell fix'd forget gazed glance glory grave grew grief hand hast hath heard heart heaven Hetman hope hour immortal knew Lara Lara's light limbs lips living lonely look look'd LORD BYRON MANFRED Mazeppa mortal mountain ne'er never night numbers o'er once Otho pain Parisina pass'd past scarce scene seem'd shore SIEGE OF CORINTH sigh silent sleep smile sorrow soul sound spirit star steed stood sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought turn'd twas twere twill Venice voice wall waves weep Whate'er wild wither'd words youth Аввот
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Стр. 124 - The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
Стр. 125 - But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride; And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail: And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
Стр. 184 - With spiders I had friendship made, And watch'd them in their sullen trade, Had seen the mice by moonlight play, And why should I feel less than they ? We were all inmates of one place, And I, the monarch of each race, Had power to kill — yet, strange to tell ! In quiet we had learn'd to dwell. My very chains and I grew friends, So much a long communion tends To make us what we are ; — even I Regain'd my freedom with a sigh.
Стр. 125 - And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord...
Стр. 100 - And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent ! THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.
Стр. 99 - She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies ; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes : Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
Стр. 183 - And then there was a little isle, Which in my very face did smile, The only one in view ; A small green isle, it seem'd no more, Scarce broader than my dungeon floor, But in it there were three tall trees, And o'er it blew the mountain breeze, And by it there were waters flowing, And on it there were young flowers growing, Of gentle breath and hue.
Стр. 176 - Was as a mockery of the tomb, Whose tints as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray; An eye of most transparent light, That almost made the dungeon bright, And not a word of murmur, not A groan o'er his untimely lot...
Стр. 209 - If it be life to wear within myself This barrenness of spirit, and to be My own soul's sepulchre, for I have ceased To justify my deeds unto myself — The last infirmity of evil.
Стр. 230 - They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o'er me — Why wert thou so dear? They know not I knew thee Who knew thee too well : Long, long shall I rue thee Too deeply to tell.