The Works of Lord Byron: Comprising the Suppressed Poems, Объемы 4-5

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A. and W. Galignani, 1826

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Стр. 157 - Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar — for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard ! — May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
Стр. 172 - It might be months, or years, or days, I kept no count — I took no note, I had no hope my eyes to raise, And clear them of their dreary mote...
Стр. 169 - For he would never thus have flown, And left me twice so doubly lone, — Lone — as the corse within its shroud, Lone — as a solitary cloud, A single cloud on a sunny day, While all the rest of heaven is clear, A frown upon the atmosphere, That hath no business to appear When skies are blue, and earth is gay.
Стр. 9 - The fixed yet tender traits that streak The languor of the placid cheek, And — but for that sad shrouded eye, That fires not, wins not, weeps not, now, And but for that chill changeless brow, Where cold obstruction's apathy...
Стр. 166 - I found him not. 7 only stirred in this black spot; / only lived — / only drew The accursed breath of dungeon-dew; The last, the sole, the dearest link Between me and the eternal brink, Which bound me to my failing race, Was broken in this fatal place.
Стр. 166 - And not a word of murmur — not A groan o'er his untimely lot ! A little talk of better days, A little hope my own...
Стр. 9 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress, (Before Decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers...
Стр. 172 - These heavy walls to me had grown A hermitage — and all my own! And half I felt as they were come To tear me from a second home...
Стр. 170 - Who loved me in a human shape; And the whole earth would henceforth be A wider prison unto me : No child — no sire — no kin had I, No partner in my misery; I...
Стр. 163 - And I have felt the winter's spray Wash through the bars when winds were high And wanton in the happy sky; And then the very rock hath rock'd, And I have felt it shake unshock'd, Because I could have smiled to see The death that would have set me free.

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