The Life of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals, Том 2

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John Murray, 1851 - Всего страниц: 735
 

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Стр. 308 - It was on the day, or rather night, of the 27th of June, 1787, between the hours of eleven and twelve, that I wrote the last lines of the last page in a summer-house in my garden. After laying down my pen, I took several turns in a berceau or covered, walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, 1 Memoirs, p. 166. and all nature was silent.
Стр. 308 - I will not dissemble the first emotions of joy on the recovery of my freedom, and, perhaps, the establishment of my fame. But my pride was soon humbled, and a sober melancholy was spread over my mind, by the idea that I had taken an everlasting leave of an old and agreeable companion, and that whatsoever might be the future date of my History, the life of the historian must be short and precarious.
Стр. 65 - But wild beasts of the desert shall lie there; and their houses shall be full of doleful creatures; and owls shall dwell there, and satyrs shall dance there.
Стр. 305 - I blame not the world, nor despise it, Nor the war of the many with one : If my soul was not fitted to prize it...
Стр. 156 - I have traversed the seat of war in the peninsula ; I have been in some of the most oppressed provinces of Turkey; but never, under the most despotic of infidel governments, did] I behold such squalid wretchedness as I have seen since my return, in the very heart of a Christian country.
Стр. 200 - But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think...
Стр. 322 - The gift, — a fate, or will, that walk'd astray ; And I at times have found the struggle hard, And thought of shaking off my bonds of clay : But now I fain would for a time survive, If but to see what next can well arrive.
Стр. 215 - Whatever Sheridan has done or chosen to do has been, par excellence, always the best of its kind. He has written the best comedy (School for Scandal), the -best drama (in my mind, far before that St.
Стр. 305 - Because it reminds me of thine ; And when winds are at war with the ocean, As the breasts I believed in with me, If their billows excite an emotion, It is that they bear me from thee.
Стр. 21 - When I was yet a child, no childish play To me was pleasing ; all my mind was set Serious to learn and know, and thence to do What might be public good; myself I thought Born to that end, born to promote all truth, All righteous things...

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