The works of lord Byron, Volumen 1 |
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Página 57
But most the modern Pict ' s ignoble boast , To rive what Goth , and Turk , and
Time hath spared : ( 6 ) Cold as the crags upon his native coast , His mind as
barren and his heart as hard , Is he whose head conceived , whose hand
prepared ...
But most the modern Pict ' s ignoble boast , To rive what Goth , and Turk , and
Time hath spared : ( 6 ) Cold as the crags upon his native coast , His mind as
barren and his heart as hard , Is he whose head conceived , whose hand
prepared ...
Página 63
Sweet Florence ! could another ever share This wayward , loveless heart , it
would be thine : But check ' d by every tie , I may not dare To cast a worthless
offering at thy shrine , Nor ask so dear a breast to feel one pang for mine . XXXI .
Sweet Florence ! could another ever share This wayward , loveless heart , it
would be thine : But check ' d by every tie , I may not dare To cast a worthless
offering at thy shrine , Nor ask so dear a breast to feel one pang for mine . XXXI .
Página 135
My heart . My love . Διά να ευχαρισήσης , να κάμης περι - To thank , φαν
compliments , and tesποίησες , και φιλικατς δεξίωσες . tify regard . Εγώ σας
ευχαρισώ . I thank you . Σας γνωρίζω χάριν . I return you thanks . Σας είμαι
υπόχρεος καλα πολλά ...
My heart . My love . Διά να ευχαρισήσης , να κάμης περι - To thank , φαν
compliments , and tesποίησες , και φιλικατς δεξίωσες . tify regard . Εγώ σας
ευχαρισώ . I thank you . Σας γνωρίζω χάριν . I return you thanks . Σας είμαι
υπόχρεος καλα πολλά ...
Página 146
Since my young days of passion - joy , or pain , Perchance my heart and harp
have lost a string , And both may jar : it may be , that in vain I would essay as I
have sung to sing . Yet , though a dreary strain , to this I cling So that it wean me
from ...
Since my young days of passion - joy , or pain , Perchance my heart and harp
have lost a string , And both may jar : it may be , that in vain I would essay as I
have sung to sing . Yet , though a dreary strain , to this I cling So that it wean me
from ...
Página 206
... Watering the heart whose early flowers have died, And with a fresher growth
replenishing the void. VI. Such is the refuge of our youth and age, 806 CHILDE
HAROLD'S cakto iv.
... Watering the heart whose early flowers have died, And with a fresher growth
replenishing the void. VI. Such is the refuge of our youth and age, 806 CHILDE
HAROLD'S cakto iv.
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Términos y frases comunes
amongst ancient appear bear beauty beneath better blood breast breath called changed Childe church dark death deep earth edit fair fall fame feel foes French gaze give Greece Greek hand Harold hath heard heart heaven hills honour hope hour Italian Italy lake land late least leave less light live look Lord lost mark memory mind mortal mountains Nature never o'er observed once pass perhaps plain present rise rock Roman Rome round scene seems seen shore song soul spirit stand Stanza statue stream tears temple thee thine things thou thought tomb traveller tree true turn Venice voice walls waters waves whole wild winds young εις και το
Pasajes populares
Página 176 - All heaven and earth are still — though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most; And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep...
Página 151 - 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...
Página 260 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll [ Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; — upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed...
Página 262 - Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time,— Calm or convulsed, in breeze or gale or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving — boundless, endless and sublime, The image of eternity, the throne Of the Invisible ; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made ; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Página 151 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Página 59 - 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 262 - And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers — they to me Were a delight : and if the freshening sea Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.
Página 176 - Uprear'd of human hands. Come and compare Columns and idol-dwellings, Goth or Greek, With Nature's realms of worship, earth and air, Nor fix on fond abodes to circumscribe thy prayer.
Página 153 - 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 143 - 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.
Información bibliográfica
| Título | The works of lord Byron, Volumen 1 The works of lord Byron, George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) |
| Autor | George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) |
| Publicado en | 1820 |
| Procedencia del original | Universidad de Oxford |
| Digitalizado | 25 Sep 2006 |
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