The poetical works of lord ByronWard Lock, 1878 |
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Página 4
... wild yagers , " and what not , To crown with honour thee and Walter Scott ; Again , all hail ! if tales like thine may please , St Luke alone can vanquish the disease ; Even Satan's self with thee might dread to dwell , And in thy skull ...
... wild yagers , " and what not , To crown with honour thee and Walter Scott ; Again , all hail ! if tales like thine may please , St Luke alone can vanquish the disease ; Even Satan's self with thee might dread to dwell , And in thy skull ...
Página 16
... wild as the gazelle's , Now brightly bold or beautifully shy , Wins as it wanders , dazzles where it dwells , Glance o'er this page , nor to my verse deny That smile for which my breast might vainly sigh , Could I to thee be ever more ...
... wild as the gazelle's , Now brightly bold or beautifully shy , Wins as it wanders , dazzles where it dwells , Glance o'er this page , nor to my verse deny That smile for which my breast might vainly sigh , Could I to thee be ever more ...
Página 18
... wild sea - mew . Yon sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight ; Farewell awhile to him and thee , My native Land - Good Night ! A few short hours , and he will rise To give the morrow birth ; And I shall hail the main and ...
... wild sea - mew . Yon sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight ; Farewell awhile to him and thee , My native Land - Good Night ! A few short hours , and he will rise To give the morrow birth ; And I shall hail the main and ...
Página 23
... wild pomp of mountain majesty ! What marvel if I thus essay to sing ? The humblest of thy pilgrims passing by Would gladly woo thine Echoes with his string , Though from thy heights no more one muse will wave her wing . LXI . Oft have I ...
... wild pomp of mountain majesty ! What marvel if I thus essay to sing ? The humblest of thy pilgrims passing by Would gladly woo thine Echoes with his string , Though from thy heights no more one muse will wave her wing . LXI . Oft have I ...
Página 24
... wild plunging of the tortured horse ; Though man and man's avenging arms assail , Vain are his weapons , vainer is his force . One gallant steed is stretch'd a mangled corse ; Another , hideous sight ! unseam'd appears , His gory chest ...
... wild plunging of the tortured horse ; Though man and man's avenging arms assail , Vain are his weapons , vainer is his force . One gallant steed is stretch'd a mangled corse ; Another , hideous sight ! unseam'd appears , His gory chest ...
Otras ediciones - Ver todo
The Poetical Works of Lord Byron: With a Memoir : Ten Volumes in Five, Volumen 1 Vista completa - 1877 |
Términos y frases comunes
Adah Aholibamah Anah art thou aught beauty behold beneath blood bosom breast breath brow Cæs Cain call'd Calmar coursers dare dark dead death deep Doge doth dread dream e'er earth eyes fair fame father fear feel gaze Giaour glory grave Greece hand hate hath heard heart heaven honour hope hour Iden Juan king knew Lady leave less Lioni live look look'd lord Lucifer Marino Faliero Michel Steno mortal Myrrha ne'er never night nought o'er once PANIA pass'd passion round Sardanapalus satraps scarce scene seem'd shore Sieg Siegendorf sigh sire slave sleep smile soul spirit Stral strange Suwarrow sweet sword tears thee thine things thou hast thought turn'd twas twill unto Venice voice wave whate'er words young youth
Pasajes populares
Página 64 - 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 38 - 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!
Página 28 - 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 64 - The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee and arbiter of war, — These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride or spoils of Trafalgar.
Página 38 - 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 37 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gather'd then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush!
Página 44 - The sky is changed ! — and such a change ! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder ! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!
Página 60 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his droop'd head sinks gradually low— And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won.
Página 134 - 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 64 - 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.