Childe Harold's PilgrimageCaldwell, 1899 - 270 sider |
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Side 164
... spring . This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction ; once , I loved Torn ocean's roar , but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a Sister's voice reproved , That 164 Childe Harold's Pilgrimage .
... spring . This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction ; once , I loved Torn ocean's roar , but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a Sister's voice reproved , That 164 Childe Harold's Pilgrimage .
Side 180
... Sweet be thy cradled slumbers ! O'er the sea , And from the mountains where I now respire , Fain would I waft such blessing upon thee , As , with a sigh , I deem thou mightst have CANTO THE FOURTH . 1818 . TO JOHN HOBHOUSE ,. been to me ...
... Sweet be thy cradled slumbers ! O'er the sea , And from the mountains where I now respire , Fain would I waft such blessing upon thee , As , with a sigh , I deem thou mightst have CANTO THE FOURTH . 1818 . TO JOHN HOBHOUSE ,. been to me ...
Side 237
... sweet creation of some heart Which found no mortal resting - place so fair As thine ideal breast : whate'er thou art Or wert , -a young Aurora of the air , The nympholepsy of some fond despair : Or , it might be , a beauty of the earth ...
... sweet creation of some heart Which found no mortal resting - place so fair As thine ideal breast : whate'er thou art Or wert , -a young Aurora of the air , The nympholepsy of some fond despair : Or , it might be , a beauty of the earth ...
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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