Childe Harold's PilgrimageSamuel E. Cassino, 1893 - 165 sider |
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Side 14
... bosom slept The silent thought , nor from his lips did come One word of wail , whilst others sate and wept , And to the reckless gales unmanly moaning kept . XIII . But when the sun was sinking in the 14 CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE .
... bosom slept The silent thought , nor from his lips did come One word of wail , whilst others sate and wept , And to the reckless gales unmanly moaning kept . XIII . But when the sun was sinking in the 14 CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE .
Side 17
... bosom had , Mine own would not be dry . " Come hither , hither , my staunch yeoman , Why dost thou look so pale ? Or dost thou dread a French foeman , Or shiver at the gale ? " . " Deem'st thou I tremble for my Sir Childe , I'm not so ...
... bosom had , Mine own would not be dry . " Come hither , hither , my staunch yeoman , Why dost thou look so pale ? Or dost thou dread a French foeman , Or shiver at the gale ? " . " Deem'st thou I tremble for my Sir Childe , I'm not so ...
Side 26
... bosom eat . XVI . Self - exiled Harold wanders forth again , With naught of hope left , but with less of gloom ; The very knowledge that he lived in vain , That all was over on this side the tomb , Had made Despair a smilingness assume ...
... bosom eat . XVI . Self - exiled Harold wanders forth again , With naught of hope left , but with less of gloom ; The very knowledge that he lived in vain , That all was over on this side the tomb , Had made Despair a smilingness assume ...
Side 44
... bosom dwelt . LIV . And he had learn'd to love , I know not why , For this in such as him seems strange of mood , - The helpless looks of blooming infancy , Even in its earliest nurture ; what subdued , To change like this , a mind so ...
... bosom dwelt . LIV . And he had learn'd to love , I know not why , For this in such as him seems strange of mood , - The helpless looks of blooming infancy , Even in its earliest nurture ; what subdued , To change like this , a mind so ...
Side 54
... bosom of its nursing lake , Which feeds it as a mother who doth make A fair but froward infant her own care , Kissing its cries away as these awake ; · Is it not better thus our lives to wear , Than join the crushing crowd , doom'd to ...
... bosom of its nursing lake , Which feeds it as a mother who doth make A fair but froward infant her own care , Kissing its cries away as these awake ; · Is it not better thus our lives to wear , Than join the crushing crowd , doom'd to ...
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Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Alps Arqua art thou ashes Avenches Aventicum Bard beauty beheld beneath blood bosom bow'd breast breath bright brow Cæsar charm Childe Childe Harold CIII Clarens clay clouds dark darter dead decay deem deem'd deep desolate didst divine dome dost doth dust dwell dwelt earth Egeria eternal eyes fair fall fame feel flame foam foes gaze gentle glory glow Goth grave grief Harold hate hath heart heaven HENRY W hills hope hues hyæna immortal Italy light lone LORD TENNYSON mighty mind mortal mother mountains Nature's night o'er ocean passion Perchance Petrarch Phlegethon poison'd pride proud Rhine roar rock Roman Rome round ruin scatter'd scene shine shore sigh sink smile soul spirit stands star stern stream sweet tears tempest thee thine things thought throne tomb tree twas tyrants unto Venice voice walls waters waves wild wind woes youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 78 - 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...
Side 145 - While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand ; When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall ; And when Rome falls — the World.
Side 78 - She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean, Rising with her tiara of proud towers At airy distance, with majestic motion, A ruler of the waters and their powers...
Side 32 - The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms — the day Battle's magnificently stern array ! The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent The earth is covered thick with other clay, Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent, Rider and horse — friend, foe, — in one red burial blent...
Side 31 - Cameron's gathering' rose! The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their mountain-pipe, so fill the mountaineers With the fierce native daring which instils The stirring memory of a thousand years, And Evan's, Donald's fame rings in each clansman's ears!
Side 19 - Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child ! Ada ! sole daughter of my house and heart ? When last I saw thy young blue eyes they smiled, And then we parted, — not as now we part, * But with a hope.
Side 115 - Alas ! the lofty city ! and alas ! The trebly hundred triumphs ! and the day When Brutus made the dagger's edge surpass The conqueror's sword in bearing fame away ! Alas, for Tully's voice, and Virgil's lay, And Livy's pictured page ! — but these shall be Her resurrection • all beside — decay. Alas, for Earth, for never shall we see That brightness in her eye she bore when Rome was free...
Side 62 - All heaven and earth are still — though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most ; And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep :— All heaven and earth are still : from the high host Of stars, to the lull'd lake and mountain-coast, All is concentred in a life intense, Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost, But hath a part of being, and a sense Of that which is of all Creator and defence.
Side 82 - Meantime I seek no sympathies, nor need ; The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree I planted, — they have torn me — and I bleed : I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.
Side 75 - I have not loved the world, nor the world me, But let us part fair foes; I do believe, Though I have found them not, that there may be Words which are things, hopes which will not deceive, And virtues which are merciful, nor weave Snares for the failing; I would also deem O'er others...