Childe Harold's PilgrimageCaldwell, 1899 - 270 sider |
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Side 69
... deem thee dead , When busy memory flashes on my brain ? Well — I will dream that we may meet again , And woo the vision to my vacant breast : Ifaught of young Remembrance then remain , Be as it may Futurity's behest , For me ' twere ...
... deem thee dead , When busy memory flashes on my brain ? Well — I will dream that we may meet again , And woo the vision to my vacant breast : Ifaught of young Remembrance then remain , Be as it may Futurity's behest , For me ' twere ...
Side 124
... deem'd its spring perpetual ; but in vain ! Still round him clung invisibly a chain Which gall'd for ever , fettering though unseen , And heavy though it clank'd not ; worn with pain , Which pined although it spoke not , and grew keen ...
... deem'd its spring perpetual ; but in vain ! Still round him clung invisibly a chain Which gall'd for ever , fettering though unseen , And heavy though it clank'd not ; worn with pain , Which pined although it spoke not , and grew keen ...
Side 177
... deem We are not what we should be , and to steel The heart against itself ; and to conceal , With a proud caution , love , or hate , or aught , Passion or feeling , purpose , grief , or zeal ,Which is the tyrant spirit of our thought ...
... deem We are not what we should be , and to steel The heart against itself ; and to conceal , With a proud caution , love , or hate , or aught , Passion or feeling , purpose , grief , or zeal ,Which is the tyrant spirit of our thought ...
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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