Poetry of Byron, chosen by M. Arnold |
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Página 21
... leaves must drop away : And yet it were a greater grief To watch it withering , leaf by leaf , Than see it pluck'd to - day ; Since earthly eye but ill can bear To trace the change to foul from fair . I know not if I could have borne To ...
... leaves must drop away : And yet it were a greater grief To watch it withering , leaf by leaf , Than see it pluck'd to - day ; Since earthly eye but ill can bear To trace the change to foul from fair . I know not if I could have borne To ...
Página 25
... leaves around the ruin'd turret wreath , All green and wildly fresh without , but worn and grey beneath . Oh could I feel as I have felt , —or be what I have been , Or weep as I could once have wept , o'er many a vanish'd scene ; As ...
... leaves around the ruin'd turret wreath , All green and wildly fresh without , but worn and grey beneath . Oh could I feel as I have felt , —or be what I have been , Or weep as I could once have wept , o'er many a vanish'd scene ; As ...
Página 47
... leaves , the earliest of the year ; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom : And oft by yon blue gushing stream Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head , And feed deep thought with many a dream , And lingering pause and lightly tread ...
... leaves , the earliest of the year ; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom : And oft by yon blue gushing stream Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head , And feed deep thought with many a dream , And lingering pause and lightly tread ...
Página 50
... 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 wither'd and strown . For the Angel of Death spread his ...
... 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 wither'd and strown . For the Angel of Death spread his ...
Página 64
... feel , and know without repair , hath taught A bitter lesson ; but it leaves me free : I have not vilely found , nor basely sought , They made an Exile - not a slave of me . THE ISLES OF GREECE . ( Song of a Greek 64 POETRY OF BYRON .
... feel , and know without repair , hath taught A bitter lesson ; but it leaves me free : I have not vilely found , nor basely sought , They made an Exile - not a slave of me . THE ISLES OF GREECE . ( Song of a Greek 64 POETRY OF BYRON .
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Poetry of Byron, Chosen by M. Arnold George Gordon N Byron No hay ninguna vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Términos y frases comunes
Adah ASTARTE bear beautiful behold beneath blood blue breast breath bride BRIDE OF ABYDOS brow Byron Cain Canto Cast crowns cheek CHILDE HAROLD clime clouds cold Crown 8vo dare dark dead death deep DON JUAN dread earth Edition F. T. PALGRAVE fcap fear feel foam foes gaze gentle Giaour glory Goethe grave hand hath heart heaven heaving hour immortal isle knew land Leopardi light limbs live lone look look'd Lucifer MANFRED MATTHEW ARNOLD moonlight play mortal mountains ne'er never night o'er PARISINA pass'd Poems poet poetic poetry roll'd rose round Samian wine scarce seem'd seen shore sigh slave smile soul spirit Stanzas star steed stood sweet tears thee thine things thou art thou hast thought throne turn'd twas Twere voice waters wave weep wild wind Wordsworth youth
Pasajes populares
Página 59 - The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece ! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung ! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set.
Página 50 - 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.
Página xxviii - Were with his heart, and that was far away ; He recked not of the life he lost, nor prize ; But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother, — he, their sire, Butchered to make a Roman holiday.
Página 98 - Fill'd with the face of heaven, which, from afar Comes down upon the waters, all its hues, From the rich sunset to the rising star, Their magical variety diffuse ; And now they change ; a paler shadow strews Its mantle o'er the mountains; parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till — 'tis gone — and all is gray.
Página 60 - And where are they? and where art thou, My country? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now, The heroic bosom beats no more ! And must thy lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine?
Página 88 - Clear, placid Leman ! thy contrasted lake, With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction ; once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved, That 1 with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
Página 44 - His steps are not upon thy paths, — thy fields Are not a spoil for him, — thou dost arise And shake him from thee ; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth : — there let him lay.
Página xxiv - What, in ill thoughts again ? Men must endure Their going hence, even as their coming hither : Ripeness is all : Come on.
Página 32 - Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child ! ADA ! sole daughter of my house and heart ? When last I saw thy young blue eyes they smiled, And then we parted, — not as now we part, But with a hope. — Awaking with a start, The waters heave around me ; and on high The winds lift up their voices : I depart, Whither I know not ; but the hour's gone by, When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.
Página 98 - 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 Tloats through the azure air — an island of the blest ! XXVIII.