PoemsRoutledge, 1859 |
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Página 18
... cloud some future day ; Friendship , whose truth let childhood only tell ; Alas ! they love not long , who love so well . To these adieu ! nor let me linger o'er Scenes hail'd , as exiles hail their native shore , Receding slowly ...
... cloud some future day ; Friendship , whose truth let childhood only tell ; Alas ! they love not long , who love so well . To these adieu ! nor let me linger o'er Scenes hail'd , as exiles hail their native shore , Receding slowly ...
Página 43
... clouds adorn ; Now let us speed , nor tempt the rising morn . ' With silver arms , with various art emboss'd , What bowls and mantles in confusion toss'd , They leave regardless ! yet one glittering prize Attracts the younger hero's ...
... clouds adorn ; Now let us speed , nor tempt the rising morn . ' With silver arms , with various art emboss'd , What bowls and mantles in confusion toss'd , They leave regardless ! yet one glittering prize Attracts the younger hero's ...
Página 56
... Clouds there encircle the forms of my fathers ; They dwell in the tempests of dark Loch na Garr . " Ill - starr'd , though brave , did no visions foreboding + Tell you that fate had forsaken your cause ? " Ah ! were you destined to die ...
... Clouds there encircle the forms of my fathers ; They dwell in the tempests of dark Loch na Garr . " Ill - starr'd , though brave , did no visions foreboding + Tell you that fate had forsaken your cause ? " Ah ! were you destined to die ...
Página 57
... clouds descend ? Nor find a sylph in every dame , A Pylades * in every friend ? But leave at once thy realms of air To mingling bands of fairy elves ; Confess that woman ' s false as fair , And friends have feeling for - themselves ...
... clouds descend ? Nor find a sylph in every dame , A Pylades * in every friend ? But leave at once thy realms of air To mingling bands of fairy elves ; Confess that woman ' s false as fair , And friends have feeling for - themselves ...
Página 61
... clouds of anarchy from Britain's skies ; The fierce usurper seeks his native hell , And Nature triumphs as the tyrant dies . With storms she welcomes his expiring groans ; Whirlwinds , responsive , greet his labouring breath ; Earth ...
... clouds of anarchy from Britain's skies ; The fierce usurper seeks his native hell , And Nature triumphs as the tyrant dies . With storms she welcomes his expiring groans ; Whirlwinds , responsive , greet his labouring breath ; Earth ...
Índice
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22 | |
28 | |
38 | |
46 | |
53 | |
71 | |
262 | |
291 | |
293 | |
297 | |
303 | |
328 | |
343 | |
358 | |
80 | |
85 | |
115 | |
118 | |
129 | |
136 | |
138 | |
148 | |
182 | |
210 | |
252 | |
Otras ediciones - Ver todo
Términos y frases comunes
Adah adieu Aholibamah Anah art thou Athens bard beautiful behold beneath blest blood bosom breast breath brow Byron Cain Calmar canst CATULLUS cheek clouds dare dark dead dear death deeds dread dream dwell earth Edinburgh Review fair falchion fame fate father fear feel fix'd foes forget gaze genius Giaour glory grave Greece grief hand hate hath heard heart heaven hope hour immortal Irad Japh lady lips live Lochlin look Lord Lord Byron Lucifer lyre mind mortal muse ne'er never Newstead Abbey night o'er once Orla Pallas pass'd passion perchance poem pride rhyme Samian wine scarce scene seem'd shore sigh sire sleep smile song soul spirit sweet tears thee thine things thou art thou hast thought throne turn'd twas twill verse voice wave weep wild wing word young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 501 - Place me on Sunium's marbled steep, Where nothing, save the waves and I, May hear our mutual murmurs sweep; There, swan-like, let me sing and die: A land of slaves shall ne'er be mine— Dash down yon cup of Samian wine!
Página 500 - What, silent still ? and silent all ? Ah ! no ;— the voices of the dead Sound like a distant torrent's fall, And answer, ' Let one living head, But one, arise, — we come, we come ! ' Tis but the living who are dumb.
Página 500 - Must we but blush? — Our fathers bled. Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead ! Of the three hundred grant but three, To make a new Thermopylae!
Página 499 - Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave. A king sate on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis; And ships, by thousands, lay below, And men in nations; - all were his! He counted them at break of day And when the sun set where were they?
Página 351 - Deserved to be dearest of all : In the desert a fountain is springing, In the wide waste there still is a tree, And a bird in the solitude singing, Which speaks to my spirit of thee.
Página 512 - Ave Maria ! blessed be the hour ! The time, the clime, the spot, where I so oft Have felt that moment in its fullest power Sink o'er the earth so beautiful and soft, While swung the deep bell in the distant tower. Or the faint dying day-hymn stole aloft, And not a breath crept through the rosy air, And yet the forest leaves seem'd stirr'd with prayer.
Página 318 - THERE'S not a joy the world can give like that it takes away When the glow of early thought declines In feeling's dull decay; 'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past.
Página 360 - And they were enemies: they met beside The dying embers of an altar-place Where had been heap'da mass of holy things For an unholy usage; they raked up, And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath Blew for a little life, and made a flame Which was a mockery; then they lifted up Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld Each other's aspects — saw, and shriek'd, and died — Even of their mutual hideousness they died, Unknowing who he was upon whose...
Página 339 - To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar — for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard ! — May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
Página 333 - Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not; Love may sink by slow decay, But by sudden wrench, believe not Hearts can thus be torn away...