The Poetical Works of Lord Byron: With LifeGall & Inglis, 1857 - Всего страниц: 576 |
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Стр. 73
... chief to arms ? The path is by the swords of foes ; but many are my heroes . They are thunderbolts of war . Speak , ye chiefs ! Who will arise ? " 66 " Son of Trenmor ! mine be the deed , " said dark - haired Orla , " and mine alone ...
... chief to arms ? The path is by the swords of foes ; but many are my heroes . They are thunderbolts of war . Speak , ye chiefs ! Who will arise ? " 66 " Son of Trenmor ! mine be the deed , " said dark - haired Orla , " and mine alone ...
Стр. 74
... chief of Oithona ? " said fair - haired Calmar : " we are in the midst of foes . Is this a time for delay ? " " It is a time for vengeance , " said Orla of the gloomy brow . " Mathon of Lochlin sleeps : seest thou his spear ? Its point ...
... chief of Oithona ? " said fair - haired Calmar : " we are in the midst of foes . Is this a time for delay ? " " It is a time for vengeance , " said Orla of the gloomy brow . " Mathon of Lochlin sleeps : seest thou his spear ? Its point ...
Стр. 86
... chief of Oithona . He was , " & c . After detaining this " brown chief " some time , the bards conclude by giving him their advice to " raise his fair locks ; " then to " spread them on the arch of the rainbow ; " and " to smile through ...
... chief of Oithona . He was , " & c . After detaining this " brown chief " some time , the bards conclude by giving him their advice to " raise his fair locks ; " then to " spread them on the arch of the rainbow ; " and " to smile through ...
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HOURS OF IDLENESS | 3 |
Leaving Newstead Abbey Through thy battlements | 9 |
Damætas In law an infant | 29 |
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adieu art thou Athens bard beam beauty behold beneath blest blood bosom breast breath brow Byron Calmar cheek Childe Harold clouds courser dare dark dead dear death deeds deep dread dream dwell earth Edinburgh Review fair falchion fame fate fear feel fix'd foes forget gaze Giaour glance glory glow grave Greece grief hand hast hate hath heard heart heaven Hellespont hope hour Lara Lara's lips live lonely look look'd Lord Lord Byron lyre mind mortal mountains ne'er never Newstead Abbey night numbers o'er once Pallas Parisina pass'd passion perchance poem pride round Samian wine scarce scene seem'd shine shore sigh slave sleep smile song soothe soul spirit steed sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought tomb turn'd twas twill Venice voice walls wave weep wild wind words youth Zuleika