Selections from the writings of lord Byron, by a clergyman [W. Elwin]. |
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Стр. 6
... hope ; but what has become of him I do not know . He was certainly a genius . My school friendships were with me passions ( for I was always violent ) , but I do not know that there is one which has endured ( to be sure some have been ...
... hope ; but what has become of him I do not know . He was certainly a genius . My school friendships were with me passions ( for I was always violent ) , but I do not know that there is one which has endured ( to be sure some have been ...
Стр. 15
... hope you will not be hurt by its severity . Tell Mrs. Byron not to be out of humour with them , and to prepare her mind for the greatest hostility on their part . It will do no injury whatever , and I trust her mind will not be ruffled ...
... hope you will not be hurt by its severity . Tell Mrs. Byron not to be out of humour with them , and to prepare her mind for the greatest hostility on their part . It will do no injury whatever , and I trust her mind will not be ruffled ...
Стр. 24
... hope , and almost without a desire . The first thing I shall have to encounter will be a lawyer , the next a creditor , then colliers , farmers , surveyors , and all the agreeable attachments to estates out of repair , and contested ...
... hope , and almost without a desire . The first thing I shall have to encounter will be a lawyer , the next a creditor , then colliers , farmers , surveyors , and all the agreeable attachments to estates out of repair , and contested ...
Стр. 25
... hope you govern my little empire and its sad load of national debt with a wary hand . - To Mrs. Byron . Volage Frigate , June 25 , 1811 . DEATH OF MRS . BYRON . My poor mother died yesterday ! and I am on my way from town to attend her ...
... hope you govern my little empire and its sad load of national debt with a wary hand . - To Mrs. Byron . Volage Frigate , June 25 , 1811 . DEATH OF MRS . BYRON . My poor mother died yesterday ! and I am on my way from town to attend her ...
Стр. 26
... hope your friends and family will long hold together . I shall be glad to hear from you , on business , on common - place , or anything , or nothing - but death - I am already too familiar with the dead . It is strange that I look on ...
... hope your friends and family will long hold together . I shall be glad to hear from you , on business , on common - place , or anything , or nothing - but death - I am already too familiar with the dead . It is strange that I look on ...
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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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answer appear bear beauty beneath blood blue break breast breath bright calm CHILDE HAROLD.-Canto dark dead death deep dream earth face fair fall father fear feel fire foes friends gaze gone grave half hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour human Italy kind knew Lady land least leave less letter light living look Lord Byron meet mind mountains nature never night o'er once pass passion poetry rest Review rise rock rose round scarce scene seems seen shine shore sight smile soul sound spirit stands stars stood stream sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought thousand Twas Venice voice walls waters waves wild wind wing wish young
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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.