PoemsG. Routledge and Sons, 1866 - 719 páginas |
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Página v
... hour " وو 39 33 99 M. S. G.- " Whene'er I view those lips ' Caroline- " Think'st thou I saw " " - " When I hear you express " Oh ! when shall the grave ' Stanzas to a Lady , with the Poems of Camoens " This 99 The First Kiss of Love ...
... hour " وو 39 33 99 M. S. G.- " Whene'er I view those lips ' Caroline- " Think'st thou I saw " " - " When I hear you express " Oh ! when shall the grave ' Stanzas to a Lady , with the Poems of Camoens " This 99 The First Kiss of Love ...
Página ix
... hour ' 692 Haidée " They carpeted their feet " 693 Vain Regrets- " But now at thirty " 695 The Slave - market - " " Twas a raw day " 696 The Lovers " The heart - which may be broken " 697 The Assassination- " The other evening " 698 ...
... hour ' 692 Haidée " They carpeted their feet " 693 Vain Regrets- " But now at thirty " 695 The Slave - market - " " Twas a raw day " 696 The Lovers " The heart - which may be broken " 697 The Assassination- " The other evening " 698 ...
Página xvii
... Hours of Idleness , " began an epic poem , called " Bosworth Field , " and wrote part of a novel : and this amidst dissipation of the wildest and least refined nature . With scanty means ... HOURS OF IDLENESS HOURS OF IDLENESS-continued.
... Hours of Idleness , " began an epic poem , called " Bosworth Field , " and wrote part of a novel : and this amidst dissipation of the wildest and least refined nature . With scanty means ... HOURS OF IDLENESS HOURS OF IDLENESS-continued.
Página xix
... hour was the prevailing feature of his character . Mr. Moore , in his Memoirs , talks a great deal of what I think nonsense about a disappointed heart and waste affections ; Lord Byron was not the man to be crushed by such poetical ...
... hour was the prevailing feature of his character . Mr. Moore , in his Memoirs , talks a great deal of what I think nonsense about a disappointed heart and waste affections ; Lord Byron was not the man to be crushed by such poetical ...
Página xxxiv
... hour , urged me " to this sin : " little can be expected from so unpromising a muse . My wreath , scanty as it must ... HOURS OF IDLENESS . ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG 2 BYRON'S POEMS .
... hour , urged me " to this sin : " little can be expected from so unpromising a muse . My wreath , scanty as it must ... HOURS OF IDLENESS . ON THE DEATH OF A YOUNG 2 BYRON'S POEMS .
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Otras ediciones - Ver todo
Términos y frases comunes
Adah adieu arms art thou Athens bard beam beauty behold beneath blest blood bosom breast breath brow Byron Cain Calmar CATULLUS cheek Countess Guiccioli dare dark dead dear death deeds dread dream dwell earth Edinburgh Review fair falchion fame fate fear feel fix'd flame foes forget friendship gaze genius Giaour glance glory glow grave Greece grief hand hate hath heart heaven honour hope hour kiss Lady Lara Lara's lips live Lochlin Lord Lord Byron Lucifer lyre Mathon mind Morven muse ne'er never Newstead Abbey night numbers o'er once Orla pass'd passion perchance poem pride scarce scene seem'd shine shore sigh sire slave sleep smile song soul spirit stamp'd sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought throne truth turn'd twas twill verse voice wave weep wild wing word young youth Zuleika
Pasajes populares
Página 556 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed. The mustering squadron, and the clattering car. Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While thronged the citizens with terror dumb. Or whispering with white lips — "The foe! They come! they come ! " And wild and high the "Cameron's gathering
Página 534 - 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 556 - No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet— But hark!— that heavy sound breaks in once more, As if the clouds its echo would repeat; And nearer, clearer, deadlier than> before! Arm! Arm! it is— it is— the cannon's opening roar!
Página 302 - The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
Página 674 - You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet, Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one? You have the letters Cadmus gave— Think ye he meant them for a slave?
Página 350 - The last, the sole, the dearest link Between me and the eternal brink, Which bound me to my failing race, Was broken in this fatal place.
Página 354 - With spiders I had friendship made, And watch'd them in their sullen trade, Had seen the mice by moonlight play, And why should I feel less than they ? We were all...
Página 558 - There have been tears and breaking hearts for thee, And mine were nothing, had I such to give ; But when I stood beneath the fresh green tree, Which living waves where thou didst cease to live, And saw around me the wide field revive With fruits and fertile promise, and the Spring Come forth her work of gladness to contrive, With all her reckless birds upon the wing, I turn'd from all she brought to those she could not bring.
Página 350 - Less wretched now, and one day free ; He, too, who yet had held untired A spirit natural or inspired — He, too, was struck, and day by day, Was wither'd on the stalk away.
Página 549 - 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 honied wealth...