The works of ... lord Byron, Volumer 7-8 |
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Side 59
... shore , Where the bowed waters meet him , and adore , Kissing his feet with murmurs ; and the wood , The covert of old trees , with trunks all hoar , But light leaves , young as joy , stands where it stood Offering to him , and his , a ...
... shore , Where the bowed waters meet him , and adore , Kissing his feet with murmurs ; and the wood , The covert of old trees , with trunks all hoar , But light leaves , young as joy , stands where it stood Offering to him , and his , a ...
Side 73
... shore . The ( fabled ) apples on the brink of the lake Asphaltes were said to be fair without , and within ashes , Tacitus , Histor . I. 5. 7 . Note 9 , page 23 , line last . - Vide For sceptred cynics earth were far too wide a den ...
... shore . The ( fabled ) apples on the brink of the lake Asphaltes were said to be fair without , and within ashes , Tacitus , Histor . I. 5. 7 . Note 9 , page 23 , line last . - Vide For sceptred cynics earth were far too wide a den ...
Side 81
... shore at St. Gingo , I found that the wind had been sufficiently strong to blow down some fine old chesnut trees on the lower part of the mountains . On the opposite height of Clarens is a chateau . The hills are covered with vineyards ...
... shore at St. Gingo , I found that the wind had been sufficiently strong to blow down some fine old chesnut trees on the lower part of the mountains . On the opposite height of Clarens is a chateau . The hills are covered with vineyards ...
Side 94
... shore , And music meets not always now the ear : Those days are gone - but Beauty still is here . States fall , arts fade but Nature doth not die , - Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear , The pleasant place of all festivity , The ...
... shore , And music meets not always now the ear : Those days are gone - but Beauty still is here . States fall , arts fade but Nature doth not die , - Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear , The pleasant place of all festivity , The ...
Side 95
... shore . V. 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 stafe Of mortal bondage , by ...
... shore . V. 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 stafe Of mortal bondage , by ...
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
Alban hill Alhama amongst ancient Ariosto Arqua beauty beheld beneath blood Boccaccio breast breath brow called Canto Certaldo CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE Chioza church Cicero Comitium Darvell dead death Decameron deep dust earth edit Egeria eyes fame feel Ficus Ruminalis Florence foes gaze glory gondola hath heart heaven hills honour hope horse hour immortal inscription Italian Italy King lake Latian Laura light limbs Livy look Mazeppa mind mortal mountains Muses Nardini never night Note o'er once Padua pass passion Petrarch poet Roman Rome round ruin Sanguinetto scene seem'd seems seen shore smiled song soul spirit spot stars statue story Suetonius sweet Tasso tears temple thee thine things thou thought throne tomb tree twas Venetians Venice Vettor Pisani voice walls waters waves wild wind wolf words καὶ
Populære avsnitt
Side 20 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Side 184 - The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals; The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war ; These are thy toys ; and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.
Side 94 - I STOOD in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs, A palace and a prison on each hand ; I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Side 11 - 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.
Side 183 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more...
Side 18 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then 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...
Side 154 - Oh Love ! no habitant of earth thou art — An unseen seraph, we believe in thee, A faith whose martyrs are the broken heart, But never yet hath seen, nor e'er shall see The naked eye, thy form, as it should be ; The mind hath made thee, as it peopled heaven, Even with its own desiring phantasy, And to a thought such shape and image given, As haunts the unquench'd soul — parch'd — wearied — wrung — and riven.
Side 158 - Hues which have words, and speak to ye of heaven, Floats o'er this vast and wondrous monument, ' And shadows forth its glory. There is given Unto the things of earth, which Time hath bent, A spirit's feeling, and where he hath leant His hand, but broke his scythe, there is a power And magic in the ruined battlement, For which the palace of the present hour Must yield its pomp, and wait till ages are its dower.
Side 36 - 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 19 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street: On with the dance! let joy be unconfined: No sleep till morn when youth and pleasure meet, To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.