The Beauties of Byron,: Consisting of Selections from His WorksT. Davison, 1824 - 212 páginas |
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Página 7
... eternal glory — which , if made By human hands , is not of human thought ; And Time himself hath hallow'd it , nor laid One ringlet in the dust - nor hath it caught A tinge of years , but breathes the flame with which ' twas wrought ...
... eternal glory — which , if made By human hands , is not of human thought ; And Time himself hath hallow'd it , nor laid One ringlet in the dust - nor hath it caught A tinge of years , but breathes the flame with which ' twas wrought ...
Página 8
... sphere ! Whatever star contain thy glory ; In the eternal depths of heaven Albeit thou watchest with the " seven , " * * The archangels , said to be seven in number . Though through space infinite and hoary Before thy bright wings 8 BYRON .
... sphere ! Whatever star contain thy glory ; In the eternal depths of heaven Albeit thou watchest with the " seven , " * * The archangels , said to be seven in number . Though through space infinite and hoary Before thy bright wings 8 BYRON .
Página 13
... Eternal name . Hark ! through All sounds it pierceth , " Allah ! Allah ! Hu * ! " A SCENE AFTER A BATTLE . Upon a taken bastion where there lay Thousands of slaughtered men , a yet warm group Of murdered women , who had found their way ...
... Eternal name . Hark ! through All sounds it pierceth , " Allah ! Allah ! Hu * ! " A SCENE AFTER A BATTLE . Upon a taken bastion where there lay Thousands of slaughtered men , a yet warm group Of murdered women , who had found their way ...
Página 28
... Eternal shadows ! First flowers of the bloody meadows Which encompass Rome , the mother Of a people without brother ! Will you sleep when nations ' quarrels Plough the root up of your laurels ? Ye who wept o'er Carthage burning , Weep ...
... Eternal shadows ! First flowers of the bloody meadows Which encompass Rome , the mother Of a people without brother ! Will you sleep when nations ' quarrels Plough the root up of your laurels ? Ye who wept o'er Carthage burning , Weep ...
Página 29
... eternal City ! Rouse thee ! Rather give the torch With thy own hand to thy porch , Than behold such hosts pollute Your worst dwelling with their foot . Ah ! behold yon bleeding Spectre ! Ilion's children find no Hector ; Priam's ...
... eternal City ! Rouse thee ! Rather give the torch With thy own hand to thy porch , Than behold such hosts pollute Your worst dwelling with their foot . Ah ! behold yon bleeding Spectre ! Ilion's children find no Hector ; Priam's ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todo
The Beauties of Byron,: Consisting of Selections from His Works Alfred Howard,Baron George Gordon Byron Byron No hay ninguna vista previa disponible - 2016 |
The Beauties of Byron: Consisting of Selections from His Works George Gordon Byron Baron Byron,Alfred Howard No hay ninguna vista previa disponible - 1835 |
Términos y frases comunes
Allah arms art thou aught Ave Maria beauty behold beneath blest blood blue bosom breast breath bright brow capital punishments Carthage charm cheek Clarens clime clouds dark dead dear death deep despair dread dream e'er earth Egeria eternal face fair fear feel flowers gaze gentle GIAOUR glance glow gondolier grave grief hand hath heart heaven hope hour human clay Kaled knew light lips living lone look look'd Myrrha ne'er never night o'er once pale pang passion pause pride Rhine rill Rome rose round Samian wine scarce seem'd Seraph shine shone shore sigh sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stamp'd star stood sweet tears tender thee thine things thou art thought trembling twas twill waters wave weep wert Whate'er wild wind wing wither'd youth Zuleika
Pasajes populares
Página 167 - 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 167 - But midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men, To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess, And roam along, the world's tired denizen, With none who bless us, none whom we can bless; Minions of splendour shrinking from distress ! None that, with kindred consciousness endued, If we were not, would seem to smile the less Of all that flattered, followed, sought and sued ; This is to be alone; this, this is solitude!
Página 195 - Cameron's gathering' rose! The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their...
Página 65 - The mountains look on Marathon, And Marathon looks on the sea. And musing there an hour alone, I dreamed that Greece might still be free, For standing on the Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave.
Página 85 - 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 wither'd and strown.
Página 49 - 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 : — All heaven and earth are still : — From the high host Of stars, to the lull'd lake and mountain-coast, All is concenter'd in a life intense, Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost, But hath a part of being, and a sense Of that which is of all Creator and defence, xc.
Página 148 - Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey The stranger, slave or savage ; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts — not so thou Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves
Página 146 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar...
Página 67 - Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! On Suli's rock, and Parga's shore, Exists the remnant of a line Such as the Doric mothers bore; And there, perhaps, some seed is sown, The Heracleidan blood might own.
Página 150 - O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, Survey our empire, and behold our home!