The works, of ... lord Byron, Volumen 3 |
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Resultados 1-5 de 13
Página 45
... least like me awake ! 8 . Through many a clime ' tis mine to go , With many a retrospection curst ; And all my solace is to know , Whate'er betides , I've known the worst . 6 . What is that worst ? Nay do not ask- In pity from the ...
... least like me awake ! 8 . Through many a clime ' tis mine to go , With many a retrospection curst ; And all my solace is to know , Whate'er betides , I've known the worst . 6 . What is that worst ? Nay do not ask- In pity from the ...
Página 64
... least , the oft - told flames , Which , though sometimes they frown , yet rarely anger dames . XXXIII . Little knew she that seeming marble - heart , Now masked in silence or withheld by pride ; Was not unskiful in the spoiler's art ...
... least , the oft - told flames , Which , though sometimes they frown , yet rarely anger dames . XXXIII . Little knew she that seeming marble - heart , Now masked in silence or withheld by pride ; Was not unskiful in the spoiler's art ...
Página 78
... least the bad . It came to pass , LXIX . that when he did address Himself to quit at length this mountain - land , Combined marauders half - way barred egress , And wasted far and near with glaive and brand ; And threfore did he take a ...
... least the bad . It came to pass , LXIX . that when he did address Himself to quit at length this mountain - land , Combined marauders half - way barred egress , And wasted far and near with glaive and brand ; And threfore did he take a ...
Página 86
... Greece ! they love thee least who owe thee most ; Their birth , their blood , and that sublime record Of hero sires , who shame , thy now degenerate horde ! LXXXIV . When riseth Lacedemon's hardihood , When Thebes , 86 CHILDE HAROLD'S.
... Greece ! they love thee least who owe thee most ; Their birth , their blood , and that sublime record Of hero sires , who shame , thy now degenerate horde ! LXXXIV . When riseth Lacedemon's hardihood , When Thebes , 86 CHILDE HAROLD'S.
Página 94
... least doubt that we should have adorned a tale instead of telling one . The crime of assassination is not confined to Portugal : in Sicily and Malta we are knocked on the head at a handsome ave- rage nightly , and not a Sicilian or ...
... least doubt that we should have adorned a tale instead of telling one . The crime of assassination is not confined to Portugal : in Sicily and Malta we are knocked on the head at a handsome ave- rage nightly , and not a Sicilian or ...
Pasajes populares
Página 61 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Página 90 - Ionian blast, Hail the bright clime of battle and of song; Long shall thine annals and immortal tongue Fill with thy fame the youth of many a shore ; Boast of the aged ! lesson of the young ! Which sages venerate and bards adore, As Pallas and the Muse unveil their awful lore.
Página 12 - A few short hours, and he will rise To give the morrow birth; And I shall hail the main and skies, But not my mother earth. Deserted is my own good hall, Its hearth is desolate; Wild weeds are gathering on the wall, My dog howls at the gate. »Come hither, hither, my little page: Why dost thou weep and wail? Or dost thou dread the billows' rage, Or tremble at the gale? But dash the tear-drop from thine eye; Our ship is swift and strong: Our fleetest falcon scarce can fly More merrily along«.
Página 88 - Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild ; Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his...
Página 52 - Look on this spot — .a nation's sepulchre ! Abode of gods, whose shrines no longer burn. Even gods must yield — religions take their turn : Twas Jove's — 'tis Mahomet's — 'and other creeds Will rise with other years, till man shall learn Vainly his incense soars, his victim bleeds ; Poor child of Doubt and Death, whose hope is built on reeds.
Página 26 - With death-shot glowing in his fiery hands, And eye that scorcheth all it glares upon ; Restless it rolls, now fix'd, and .now anon Flashing afar, — and at his iron feet Destruction cowers to mark what deeds are done ; For on this morn three potent nations meet, To shed before his shrine the blood he deems most sweet.
Página 15 - I'm in the world alone, Upon the wide, wide sea ; But why should I for others groan, When none will sigh for me? Perchance my dog will whine in vain, Till fed by stranger hands ; But long ere I come back again He'd tear me where he stands. With thee, my bark, I'll swiftly go Athwart the foaming brine ! Nor care what land thou bear'st me to, So not again to mine. Welcome, welcome, ye dark blue waves ! And when you fail my sight, Welcome, ye deserts, and ye caves ! My native Land— Good Night ! XIV.
Página 92 - What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loved one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth, as I am now.
Página 89 - The flying Mede, his shaftless broken bow ; The fiery Greek, his red pursuing spear ; Mountains above, Earth's, Ocean's plain below ; Death in the front, Destruction in the rear ! Such was the scene — what now...
Página 9 - Tis said, at times the sullen tear would start, But pride congealed the drop within his ee: Apart he stalked in joyless reverie, And from his native land resolved to go, And visit scorching climes beyond the sea; With pleasure drugged, he almost longed for woe, And e'en for change of scene would seek the shades below.