Childe Harold's PilgrimageCaldwell, 1899 - 270 sider |
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Side 14
... Childe Harold was he hight ; —but whence his name And lineage long , it suits me not to say ; Suffice it , that perchance they were of fame , And had been glorious in another day : But one sad losel soils a name for aye , However mighty ...
... Childe Harold was he hight ; —but whence his name And lineage long , it suits me not to say ; Suffice it , that perchance they were of fame , And had been glorious in another day : But one sad losel soils a name for aye , However mighty ...
Side 15
... Childe befell ; He felt the fulness of satiety : Then loathed he in his native land to dwell , Which seem'd to him more lone than Eremite's sad cell . V. For ... Childe Harold was sore sick at. taste . shun ; Childe Harold's Pilgrimage . 15.
... Childe befell ; He felt the fulness of satiety : Then loathed he in his native land to dwell , Which seem'd to him more lone than Eremite's sad cell . V. For ... Childe Harold was sore sick at. taste . shun ; Childe Harold's Pilgrimage . 15.
Side 16
... Childe departed from his father's hall : It was a vast and venerable pile ; So old , it seemed only , not to fall ... Childe Harold's brow As if the memory of some deadly feud Or disappointed 16 Childe Harold's Pilgrimage .
... Childe departed from his father's hall : It was a vast and venerable pile ; So old , it seemed only , not to fall ... Childe Harold's brow As if the memory of some deadly feud Or disappointed 16 Childe Harold's Pilgrimage .
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Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
banks bear beauty behold beneath blood blue bosom breast breath bright brow charms chief Childe clouds dark dead dear death deem deep doth dream dust dwell earth fair fall fame fate feel fire foes gaze Glory grave hand Harold hath heart heaven hills hope hour immortal Italy land leaves less light live lone look lord lost mark mind mortal mountain Nature never night o'er once pass passion past plain pride proud rise rock round ruin scarce scene seek seems seen shore shrine sigh smile song soul sound spirit spring stand star stream sweet tears thee thine things thou thought thousand till tomb tree turn vain voice walls waters waves wild wind woes young youth