Byron, Том 1C. Scribner's Sons, 1924 - Всего страниц: 474 This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. |
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Стр. 10
... eyes ; her very dress ! I should be quite grieved to see her now ; the reality , however beautiful , would destroy , or at least confuse , the features of the lovely Peri which then existed in her , and still lives in my imagination ...
... eyes ; her very dress ! I should be quite grieved to see her now ; the reality , however beautiful , would destroy , or at least confuse , the features of the lovely Peri which then existed in her , and still lives in my imagination ...
Стр. 21
... eyes were pronounced to be as beautiful as his father's ) became , we may well suppose , as abhorrent as her gusts of loud - mouthed fury - and yet the boy was warm - hearted , generous , kind . As he grew up , he was forced into ...
... eyes were pronounced to be as beautiful as his father's ) became , we may well suppose , as abhorrent as her gusts of loud - mouthed fury - and yet the boy was warm - hearted , generous , kind . As he grew up , he was forced into ...
Стр. 23
... eye " -but of something far more valid for the boy's immediate happiness . He perceived that it was a wild mountain - colt that Hanson had left behind , but the colt , he thought , was " to be led by a silken string rather than by a ...
... eye " -but of something far more valid for the boy's immediate happiness . He perceived that it was a wild mountain - colt that Hanson had left behind , but the colt , he thought , was " to be led by a silken string rather than by a ...
Стр. 27
... eyes filled with tears . He never did see him again , but one of the last letters from Missolonghi ( March 31 , 1824 ) was written to this dearest Clare , whom he had " always loved better than any ( male ) thing in the world " , who ...
... eyes filled with tears . He never did see him again , but one of the last letters from Missolonghi ( March 31 , 1824 ) was written to this dearest Clare , whom he had " always loved better than any ( male ) thing in the world " , who ...
Стр. 38
... eyes and clouds of dense black hair . Something of espièglerie lurks in the little oval face , which to modern eyes is barely pretty , though we can guess at a mobile charm when laughter lit it . Byron , on the other hand , is at ...
... eyes and clouds of dense black hair . Something of espièglerie lurks in the little oval face , which to modern eyes is barely pretty , though we can guess at a mobile charm when laughter lit it . Byron , on the other hand , is at ...
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Стр. 299 - So we'll go no more a roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, And the moon be still as bright. For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul wears out the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest. Though the night was made for loving, And the day returns too soon, Yet we'll go no more a roving By the light of the moon.
Стр. 88 - Near this spot Are deposited the Remains Of one Who Possessed Beauty Without Vanity, Strength without Insolence, Courage without Ferocity, And all the Virtues of Man Without his Vices. This Praise, which would be unmeaning flattery If inscribed over Human Ashes, Is but a just tribute to the Memory of "Boatswain," a Dog Who was born at Newfoundland, May, 1803, And died at Newstead Abbey Nov. 18, 1808.
Стр. 289 - Could I embody and unbosom now That which is most within me — could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings, strong or weak, All that I would have sought, and all I seek, Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe — into one word, And that one word were Lightning, I would speak ; But as it is, I live and die unheard, With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword.
Стр. 251 - Here's a sigh to those who love me, And a smile to those who hate ; And whatever sky's above me, Here's a heart for every fate. Though the ocean roar around me, Yet it still shall bear me on ; Though a desert should surround me, It hath springs that may be won.
Стр. 314 - I say that Maddalo is proud, because I can find no other word to express the concentered and impatient feelings which consume him; but it is on his own hopes and affections only that he seems to trample, for in social life no human being can be more gentle, patient, and unassuming than Maddalo. He is cheerful, frank, and witty. His more serious conversation is a sort of intoxication; men are held by it as by a spell. He has travelled much ; and there is an inexpressible charm in his relation of his...
Стр. 288 - Yet must I think less wildly : — I have thought Too long and darkly, till my brain became, In its own eddy boiling and o'erwrought, A whirling gulf of phantasy and flame : And thus, untaught in youth my heart to tame, My springs of life were poison'd.
Стр. 186 - Sun-burnt his cheek, his forehead high and pale The sable curls in wild profusion veil; And oft perforce his rising lip reveals The haughtier thought it curbs, but scarce conceals Though smooth his voice, and calm his general mien Still seems there something he would not have seen His features...
Стр. 209 - I saw him stand Before an Altar — with a gentle bride ; Her face was fair, but was not that which made The Starlight of his Boyhood ; — as he stood Even at the altar, o'er his brow there...
Стр. 289 - Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!
Стр. 386 - That palter with us in a double sense ; That keep the word of promise to our ear, And break it to our hope.