Selections from the writings of lord Byron, by a clergyman [W. Elwin]. |
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Стр. 9
... breast and beak against his wiry dome Till the blood tinge his plumage , so the heat Of his impeded soul would through his bosom eat . CHILDE HAROLD . - Canto III . WATERLOO . : STOP ! -for thy tread is on HAROLD'S PREFERENCE OF NATURE ...
... breast and beak against his wiry dome Till the blood tinge his plumage , so the heat Of his impeded soul would through his bosom eat . CHILDE HAROLD . - Canto III . WATERLOO . : STOP ! -for thy tread is on HAROLD'S PREFERENCE OF NATURE ...
Стр. 13
... breast than thine , young , gallant Howard ! There have been tears and breaking hearts for thee , And mine were nothing , had I such to give ; But when I stood beneath the fresh green tree , Which living waves where thou didst cease to ...
... breast than thine , young , gallant Howard ! There have been tears and breaking hearts for thee , And mine were nothing , had I such to give ; But when I stood beneath the fresh green tree , Which living waves where thou didst cease to ...
Стр. 16
... breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine ; And hills all rich with blossom'd trees , And fields which promise corn and wine , And scatter'd cities crowning these , Whose far white walls along them shine ...
... breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine ; And hills all rich with blossom'd trees , And fields which promise corn and wine , And scatter'd cities crowning these , Whose far white walls along them shine ...
Стр. 17
... breast its wish might bound Through life to dwell delighted here ; Nor could on earth a spot be found To nature and to me so dear , Could thy dear eyes in following mine Still sweeten more these banks of Rhine ! CHILDE HAROLD . - Canto ...
... breast its wish might bound Through life to dwell delighted here ; Nor could on earth a spot be found To nature and to me so dear , Could thy dear eyes in following mine Still sweeten more these banks of Rhine ! CHILDE HAROLD . - Canto ...
Стр. 21
... breast the spirit of her hues . 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 ...
... breast the spirit of her hues . 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 ...
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Selections from the Writings of Lord Byron, by a Clergyman [W. Elwin] George Gordon N Byron (6th Baron ) Недоступно для просмотра - 2015 |
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Anah Armenia Auld Lang Syne beauty beneath blue breast breath brow calm CHARLES SKINNER CHILDE HAROLD.-Canto CORSAIR dark dash dead death deep desolate DON JUAN dream earth Edinburgh Review fame father fear feel foam foes friends gaze gentle GIAOUR glory grave Harrow hath hear heard heart heaven honour hope hour knew LADY BYRON letter living lone look look'd Lord Byron Madame de Stael mind Moore mountains Murray ne'er never NEWSTEAD ABBEY night o'er once pass'd passion poem poet poetical poetry PRISONER OF CHILLON Ravenna recollect round sail Samian wine scarce scene seem'd Sheridan shine shore SIEGE OF CORINTH sigh smile soul spirit stars steed stood sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thousand turn'd twas Venice voice walls waters waves weep wild wind wings words
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Стр. 11 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness : And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Стр. 13 - 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...
Стр. 21 - Clear, placid Leman! thy contrasted lake, With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction; once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
Стр. 12 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, — alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass...
Стр. 135 - 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. 91 - 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. 22 - The sky is changed ! — and such a change ! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder...
Стр. 45 - 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. 27 - I STOOD in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs ; A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Стр. 27 - In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more, And silent rows the songless gondolier ; Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, And music meets not always now the ear : Those days are gone — but Beauty still is here. States fall, arts fade — but Nature doth not die, Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy ! IV.