The poetical works of lord Byron, complete. (Pearl ed.).J. Murray, 1867 - 685 páginas |
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Página vi
... LATE POET AND SHOEMAKER 49 49 TO A VAIN LADY . FAREWELL TO MALTA TO ANNE To DIVES . A FRAGMENT TO THE SAME TO THE AUTHOR OF A SONNET BEGINNING " SAD IS MY VERSE , YOU SAY , AND YET NO TEAR " 66 ON FINDING A FAN ON MOORE'S LAST OPERATIC ...
... LATE POET AND SHOEMAKER 49 49 TO A VAIN LADY . FAREWELL TO MALTA TO ANNE To DIVES . A FRAGMENT TO THE SAME TO THE AUTHOR OF A SONNET BEGINNING " SAD IS MY VERSE , YOU SAY , AND YET NO TEAR " 66 ON FINDING A FAN ON MOORE'S LAST OPERATIC ...
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... late years , had the benefit of such pure air , or so elevated a residence , as might enable me to enter the lists with genuine bards , who have enjoyed both these advantages . But they derive considerable fame , and a few not less ...
... late years , had the benefit of such pure air , or so elevated a residence , as might enable me to enter the lists with genuine bards , who have enjoyed both these advantages . But they derive considerable fame , and a few not less ...
Página 36
... late you may droop o'er the fond recollection , And sigh for the friend who was formerly yours . TO THE EARL OF CLARE . " Tu semper amoris Sis memor , et cari comitis ne abscedat imago . " VAL . FLAU . FRIEND of my youth ! when young we ...
... late you may droop o'er the fond recollection , And sigh for the friend who was formerly yours . TO THE EARL OF CLARE . " Tu semper amoris Sis memor , et cari comitis ne abscedat imago . " VAL . FLAU . FRIEND of my youth ! when young we ...
Página 52
... late , shall bring The dreamless sleep that lulls the dead , Oblivion ! may thy languid wing Wave gently o'er my dying bed ! No band of friends or heirs be there , To weep , or wish , the coming blow : No maiden , with dishevelled hair ...
... late , shall bring The dreamless sleep that lulls the dead , Oblivion ! may thy languid wing Wave gently o'er my dying bed ! No band of friends or heirs be there , To weep , or wish , the coming blow : No maiden , with dishevelled hair ...
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... late thou leav'st the high command To which thy weakness clung ; All Evil Spirit as thou art , It is enough to grieve the heart To see thine own unstrung ; To think that God's fair world hath been The footstool of a thing so mean ; X ...
... late thou leav'st the high command To which thy weakness clung ; All Evil Spirit as thou art , It is enough to grieve the heart To see thine own unstrung ; To think that God's fair world hath been The footstool of a thing so mean ; X ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
The Poetical Works of Lord Byron, Complete. (Pearl Ed.) George Gordon N Byron (6th Baron ) Sin vista previa disponible - 2015 |
The Poetical Works Of Lord Byron, Complete. (pearl Ed.) George Gordon N Byron (6th Baron ) Sin vista previa disponible - 2023 |
The Poetical Works Of Lord Byron, Complete. (pearl Ed.) George Gordon N Byron (6th Baron ) Sin vista previa disponible - 2023 |
Términos y frases comunes
arms bear beauty behold beneath better blood born breast breath brow Cain chief dare dark dead death deep Doge doubt dream earth Enter face fair fall fame fate father fear feel fire gaze give grave half hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour king knew lady land late least leave less light live look lord Lucifer meet mind nature ne'er never night o'er once pass past present rest rise round scarce scene seems seen shore slave sleep smile soul sound speak spirit sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought true turn voice walls wave young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 153 - 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!
Página 159 - Sky, mountains, river, winds, lake, lightnings ! ye ! With night, and clouds, and thunder, and a soul To make these felt and feeling, well may be Things that have made me watchful ; the far roll Of your departing voices, is the knoll Of what in me is sleepless, — if I rest. But where of ye, 0 tempests ! is the goal ? Are ye like those within the human breast ? Or do ye find, at length, like eagles, some high nest ? XCVII.
Página 72 - OUR life is twofold : Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence : Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality. And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy ; They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts, They take a weight from off our waking toils, They do divide our being...
Página 153 - 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!
Página 152 - Tis to create, and in creating live A being more intense, that we endow With form our fancy, gaining as we give The life we image, even as I do now. What am I ? Nothing : but not so art thou, Soul of my thought ! with whom I traverse earth, Invisible but gazing, as I glow Mix'd with thy spirit, blended with thy birth, And feeling still with thee in my crush'd feelings
Página 245 - And not a word of murmur — not A groan o'er his untimely lot, A little talk of better days, A little hope my own...
Página 178 - The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee and arbiter of war,— These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride or spoils of Trafalgar.
Página 180 - Decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers,) And mark'd the mild angelic air, The rapture of repose that's there, The fixed yet tender traits that streak The languor of the placid cheek, And but for that sad shrouded eye, That fires not, wins not, weeps not, now. And but for that chill changeless brow, Where cold Obstruction's apathy...
Página 180 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress, (Before Decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers...
Página 178 - Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time Calm or convulsed — in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime — The image of Eternity — the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.