The Works of Lord Byron: Childe Harold's pilgrimageJohn Murray, 1821 |
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Side 56
... woes , And the world's waste , have driven him far from those , For ' tis his nature to advance or die ; He stands not still , but or decays , or grows Into a boundless blessing , which may vie With the immortal lights , in its eternity ...
... woes , And the world's waste , have driven him far from those , For ' tis his nature to advance or die ; He stands not still , but or decays , or grows Into a boundless blessing , which may vie With the immortal lights , in its eternity ...
Side 102
... woes , The pilgrims of his genius . He arose To raise a language , and his land reclaim From the dull yoke of her barbaric foes : Watering the tree which bears his lady's name ( 15 ) With his melodious tears , he gave himself to fame ...
... woes , The pilgrims of his genius . He arose To raise a language , and his land reclaim From the dull yoke of her barbaric foes : Watering the tree which bears his lady's name ( 15 ) With his melodious tears , he gave himself to fame ...
Side 108
... woes and past , On thy sweet brow is sorrow plough'd by shame , And annals graved in characters of flame . Oh God ! that thou wert in thy nakedness Less lovely or more powerful , and could'st claim Thy right , and awe the robbers back ...
... woes and past , On thy sweet brow is sorrow plough'd by shame , And annals graved in characters of flame . Oh God ! that thou wert in thy nakedness Less lovely or more powerful , and could'st claim Thy right , and awe the robbers back ...
Side 114
... woes ; Here Machiavelli's earth , return'd to whence it rose . ( 29 ) LV . These are four minds , which , like the elements , Might furnish forth creation : -Italy ! Time , which hath wrong'd thee with ten thousand rents Of thine ...
... woes ; Here Machiavelli's earth , return'd to whence it rose . ( 29 ) LV . These are four minds , which , like the elements , Might furnish forth creation : -Italy ! Time , which hath wrong'd thee with ten thousand rents Of thine ...
Side 126
... woes and sufferance ? Come and see The cypress , hear the owl , and plod your way Oer steps of broken thrones and temples , Ye ! Whose agonies are evils of a day- A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay . LXXIX . The Node of ...
... woes and sufferance ? Come and see The cypress , hear the owl , and plod your way Oer steps of broken thrones and temples , Ye ! Whose agonies are evils of a day- A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay . LXXIX . The Node of ...
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Populære passager
Side 91 - 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 20 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, — alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass...
Side 92 - She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean, Rising with her tiara of proud towers At airy distance, with majestic motion, A ruler of the waters and their powers : And such she was ; — her daughters had their dowers From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East Pour'd in her lap all gems in sparkling showers. In purple was she robed, and of her feast Monarchs partook, and deem'd their dignity increased.
Side 132 - Alas ! the lofty city ! and alas ! The trebly hundred triumphs ! and the day When Brutus made the dagger's edge surpass The conqueror's sword in bearing fame away ! Alas, for Tully's voice, and Virgil's lay, And Livy's pictured page ! — but these shall be Her resurrection; all beside — decay. Alas, for Earth, for never shall we see That brightness in her eye she bore when Rome was free!
Side 127 - Horribly beautiful ! but on the verge, From side to side, beneath the glittering morn, An Iris sits, amidst the infernal surge, Like Hope upon a death-bed, and, unworn Its steady dyes, while all around is torn By the distracted waters, bears serene Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn : Resembling, 'mid the torture of the scene, Love watching Madness with unalterable mien.
Side 104 - The moon is up, and yet it is not night — Sunset divides the sky with her — a sea Of glory streams along the Alpine height Of blue Friuli's mountains ; heaven is free From clouds, but of all colours seems to be Melted to one vast Iris of the West, Where the day joins the past Eternity; While, on the other hand, meek Dian's crest Floats through the azure air — an island of the blest...
Side 96 - Meantime I seek no sympathies, nor need ; The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree I planted, — they have torn me — and I bleed : I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.
Side 56 - Now, where the quick Rhone thus hath cleft his way, The mightiest of the storms hath ta'en his stand : For here, not one, but many make their play, And fling their thunder-bolts from hand to hand, Flashing and cast around : of all the band, The brightest through these parted hills hath fork'd His lightnings, — as if he did understand, That in such gaps as desolation work'd, There the hot shaft should blast whatever therein lurk'd.
Side 112 - God ! that thou wert in thy nakedness Less lovely or more powerful, and couldst claim Thy right, and awe the robbers back, who press To shed thy blood, and drink the tears of thy distress...
Side 44 - Or the pure bosom of its nursing lake, Which feeds it as a mother who doth make A fair but froward infant her own care, Kissing its cries away as these awake; — Is it not better thus our lives to wear, Than join the crushing crowd, doom'd to inflict or bear?