Childe Harold's PilgrimageCaldwell, 1899 - 270 sider |
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Side 9
... speak ? Ah ! may'st thou ever be what now thou art , Nor unbeseem the promise of thy spring , As fair in form , as warm yet pure in heart , Love's image upon earth without his wing , And guileless beyond Hope's imagining ! And surely ...
... speak ? Ah ! may'st thou ever be what now thou art , Nor unbeseem the promise of thy spring , As fair in form , as warm yet pure in heart , Love's image upon earth without his wing , And guileless beyond Hope's imagining ! And surely ...
Side 68
... speak , Athena's wisest son ! “ All that we know is , nothing can be known . ” Why should we shrink from what we cannot shun ? Each hath its pang , but feeble sufferers groan With brain - born dreams of evil all their own . Pursue what ...
... speak , Athena's wisest son ! “ All that we know is , nothing can be known . ” Why should we shrink from what we cannot shun ? Each hath its pang , but feeble sufferers groan With brain - born dreams of evil all their own . Pursue what ...
Side 243
... . assume CXXIX . Hues which have words , and speak to ye of And shadows forth its glory . There is given Unto. heaven , Floats o'er this vast and wondrous monument , ground ; To thee I do devote it - thou Childe Harold's Pilgrimage . 243.
... . assume CXXIX . Hues which have words , and speak to ye of And shadows forth its glory . There is given Unto. heaven , Floats o'er this vast and wondrous monument , ground ; To thee I do devote it - thou Childe Harold's Pilgrimage . 243.
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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