The Poetical Works of Lord ByronJohn Murray, 1859 - Всего страниц: 827 |
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Стр. xiii
... hath beut him Em the first day day day t Grasje Breast for ever ver the dead_ death is fled - The first dark . of Nothingness . The last of doven of of distes Before Corruation , canhoring fingers , Hath tinged the hue whare Beauty ...
... hath beut him Em the first day day day t Grasje Breast for ever ver the dead_ death is fled - The first dark . of Nothingness . The last of doven of of distes Before Corruation , canhoring fingers , Hath tinged the hue whare Beauty ...
Стр. 2
... hath there been matchless deem'd ; Not in those visions to the heart displaying Forms which it sighs but to have only dream'd , Hath aught like thee in truth or fancy seem'd : Nor , having seen thee , shall I vainly seek To paint those ...
... hath there been matchless deem'd ; Not in those visions to the heart displaying Forms which it sighs but to have only dream'd , Hath aught like thee in truth or fancy seem'd : Nor , having seen thee , shall I vainly seek To paint those ...
Стр. 10
... hath impress'd Denotes how soft that chin which bears his touch : 4 Her lips , whose kisses pout to leave their nest , Bid man be valiant ere he merit such : Her glance how wildly beautiful ! how much Hath Phoebus woo'd in vain to spoil ...
... hath impress'd Denotes how soft that chin which bears his touch : 4 Her lips , whose kisses pout to leave their nest , Bid man be valiant ere he merit such : Her glance how wildly beautiful ! how much Hath Phoebus woo'd in vain to spoil ...
Стр. 17
... hath his pang , but feeble sufferers groan With brain - born dreams of evil all their own . Pursue what Chance or Fate proclaimeth best ; Peace waits us on the shores of Acheron : There no forced banquet claims the sated guest , But ...
... hath his pang , but feeble sufferers groan With brain - born dreams of evil all their own . Pursue what Chance or Fate proclaimeth best ; Peace waits us on the shores of Acheron : There no forced banquet claims the sated guest , But ...
Стр. 19
... hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen , With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; ' t is but to hold [ unroll❜d . Converse with ...
... hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen , With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; ' t is but to hold [ unroll❜d . Converse with ...
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Adah Aholibamah Anah aught bard bear beauty behold beneath blood bosom breast breath brow Cain Calmar canto chief Childe Harold dare dark dead death deeds deep Doge Doge of Venice dost dread earth Faliero fame fate father fear feel gaze Giaour grave Greece hand hath hear heard heart heaven honour hope hour Iden leave less Lioni live look Lord Byron Lucifer Marino Faliero mind mortal mountains Myrrha ne'er never night noble o'er once palace PANIA Parisina pass'd passion poem poet Sardanapalus scarce scene seem'd Sieg Siege of Corinth Siegendorf sigh sire slave sleep smile soul spirit Stral strange tears thee thine things thou art thought Ulric Venice verse voice walls wave wild words young youth
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Стр. 58 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, •To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean— roll!
Стр. 28 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war...
Стр. 28 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gather'd then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush!
Стр. 28 - Cameron's gathering' rose! The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their...
Стр. 58 - 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. 29 - 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...
Стр. 135 - 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. 122 - There is not wind enough in the air To move away the ringlet curl From the lovely lady's cheek— There is not wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can, Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
Стр. 40 - She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean, Rising with her tiara of proud towers At airy distance, with majestic motion, A ruler of the waters and their powers...
Стр. 54 - 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.