Childe Harold's pilgrimage. Illustr. ed |
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Página 71
... dust before it flies : That little urn saith more than thousand homilies . V. Or burst the vanish'd Hero's lofty mound ; Far on the solitary shore he sleeps : He fell , and falling nations mourn'd around ; But now not one of saddening ...
... dust before it flies : That little urn saith more than thousand homilies . V. Or burst the vanish'd Hero's lofty mound ; Far on the solitary shore he sleeps : He fell , and falling nations mourn'd around ; But now not one of saddening ...
Página 76
... dust they loved ; Dull is the eye that will not weep to see Thy walls defaced , thy mouldering shrines removed By British hands , which it had best behoved To guard those relics ne'er to be restored . Curst be the hour when from their ...
... dust they loved ; Dull is the eye that will not weep to see Thy walls defaced , thy mouldering shrines removed By British hands , which it had best behoved To guard those relics ne'er to be restored . Curst be the hour when from their ...
Página 113
... a state ; An hour may lay it in the dust and when Can man its shatter'd splendour renovate , Recall its virtues back , and vanquish Time and Fate ? Q CAPE COLONNA LXXXV . age of woe , Land of CANTO II . 113 CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE.
... a state ; An hour may lay it in the dust and when Can man its shatter'd splendour renovate , Recall its virtues back , and vanquish Time and Fate ? Q CAPE COLONNA LXXXV . age of woe , Land of CANTO II . 113 CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE.
Página 117
... dust thy courser's hoof , rude stranger ! spurns around . XCI . Yet to the remnants of thy splendour past Shall pilgrims , pensive , but unwearied , throng ; Long shall the voyager , with th ' Ionian blast , Hail the bright clime of ...
... dust thy courser's hoof , rude stranger ! spurns around . XCI . Yet to the remnants of thy splendour past Shall pilgrims , pensive , but unwearied , throng ; Long shall the voyager , with th ' Ionian blast , Hail the bright clime of ...
Página 132
... dust ! An Earthquake's spoil is sepulchred below ! Is the spot marked with no colossal bust ? Nor column trophied for triumphal show ? None ; but the moral's truth tells simpler so , As the ground was before , thus let it be ; - How ...
... dust ! An Earthquake's spoil is sepulchred below ! Is the spot marked with no colossal bust ? Nor column trophied for triumphal show ? None ; but the moral's truth tells simpler so , As the ground was before , thus let it be ; - How ...
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Otras ediciones - Ver todas
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Illustr. Ed Lord George Gordon Byron, Lord Sin vista previa disponible - 2015 |
Términos y frases comunes
Albanian Ali Pacha Arqua Athens aught beauty behold beneath blest blood bosom breast breath brow caloyer CANTO charms Childe Harold CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE Clarens clime clouds dare dark deem'd deep desolate didst doth dread dust dwell earth earth art Egeria Epirus eternal fair fame fate feel foes gaze Giaour glory glow grave Greece Greek hand hath heart Heaven hills Historical Illustrations honour hope hour hyæna Idlesse immortal Italy lake land less light live lone look Lord Byron mighty mind mortal mountains Nature's ne'er never o'er once pass pass'd passion plain poem Pouqueville proud Rhine roar rock Roman Rome ruin scatter'd scene shore shrine sigh skies slave smile song soul spirit spot star stern stream sweet tears temple thee thine things thou thought throne tomb tower tyrants Venice walls waves wild wind woes youth
Pasajes populares
Página 160 - And this is in the night : — Most glorious night ! Thou wert not sent for slumber ! let me be A sharer in thy fierce and' far delight,— A portion of the tempest and of thee...
Página 269 - His steps are not upon thy paths— thy fields Are not a spoil for him— thou dost arise And shake him from thee ; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth — there let him lay.
Página 271 - And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers — they to me Were a delight : and if the freshening sea Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.
Página 162 - 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.
Página 125 - 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; who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise...
Página 269 - 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.
Página 249 - I see before me the gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand ; his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low ; And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him ; he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
Página 157 - He is an evening reveller, who makes His life an infancy, and sings his fill; At intervals, some bird from out the brakes Starts into voice a moment, then is still. There seems a floating whisper on the hill, But that is fancy, for the starlight dews All silently their tears of love instil, Weeping themselves away, till they infuse Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues.
Página 124 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street: On with the dance! let joy be unconfined: No sleep till morn when youth and pleasure meet, To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.
Página 195 - The moon is up, and yet it is not night; Sunset divides the sky with her; a sea Of glory streams along the Alpine height Of blue Friuli's mountains; Heaven is free From clouds, but of all colours seems to be, — Melted to one vast Iris of the West, — Where the Day joins the past Eternity, While, on the other hand, meek Dian's crest Floats through the azure air — an island of the blest!