The poetical works of Lord Byron: In ten volumes. ...John Murray, Albemarle Street, 1873 |
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The Poetical Works of Lord Byron: In Ten Volumes, Volum 1 George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1879 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Albanians Ali Pacha amongst ancient Ariosto Athens beauty beheld beneath blood Boccaccio bosom breast breath brow Cæsar called CANTO charms Childe Harold CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE church Cicero Constantinople dark death deem'd deep doth dust earth Egeria fair fame feel Florence foes gaze Giaours glory gondoliers Greece Greek hand hath heart Heaven hills honour hope hour immortal Italian Italy Julius Cæsar lake land less line 9 live Lord Byron maid mind mortal mountains Muse ne'er never o'er once Pacha palace pass pass'd passion Petrarch plain poem poet Pouqueville rock Roman Rome round ruins says scene seems seen shore shrine sigh smile song soul spirit spot Stanza stream Tasso tears temple thee thine things thou thought tomb traveller triumph Turks Venetians Venice verse walls waves wild woes wolf words youth
Populære avsnitt
Side 161 - And this is in the night: — Most glorious night! Thou wert not sent for slumber! let me be A sharer in thy fierce and far delight, — A portion of the tempest and of thee! How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea, And the big rain comes dancing to the earth! And now again 'tis black, — and now, the glee Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain-mirth, As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth.
Side 161 - The sky is changed! - and such a change! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder!
Side 200 - Fill'd with the face of heaven, which, from afar, Comes down upon the waters ; all its hues, From the rich sunset to the rising star, Their magical variety diffuse : And now they change ; a paler shadow strews Its mantle o'er the mountains ; parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till — 'tis gone — and all is gray.
Side 147 - The castled crag of Drachenfels Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine, And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, And fields which promise corn and wine, And scatter'd cities crowning these, Whose far white walls along them shine, Have strew'da scene, •which I should see With double joy wert thou with me.
Side 136 - Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men ; A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell ; But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell. Did ye not hear it ? No ; 'twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street.
Side 252 - Dark-heaving, boundless, endless and sublime — The image of eternity — the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Side 192 - The beings of the mind are not of clay; Essentially immortal, they create And multiply in us a brighter ray And more beloved existence : that which Fate Prohibits to dull life, in this our state Of mortal bondage, by these spirits supplied, First exiles, then replaces what we hate ; Watering the heart whose early flowers have died, And with a fresher growth replenishing the void.
Side 252 - And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers — they to me Were a delight : and if the freshening sea Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.
Side 131 - Yet must I think less wildly — I have thought Too long and darkly, till my brain became In its own eddy boiling and o'erwrought, A whirling gulf of phantasy and flame : And thus, untaught in youth my heart to tame, My springs of life were poison'd.
Side 131 - Tis to create, and in creating live A being more intense, that we endow With form our fancy, gaining as we give The life we image, even as I do now.