Selections from the writings of lord Byron, by a clergyman [W. Elwin]. |
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Página 87
... blood , and the ghastliness of the exposed heads - is altogether more impressive than the vulgar and ungentlemanly dirty " new drop , " and dog - like agony of infliction upon the sufferers of the English sentence . Two of these men ...
... blood , and the ghastliness of the exposed heads - is altogether more impressive than the vulgar and ungentlemanly dirty " new drop , " and dog - like agony of infliction upon the sufferers of the English sentence . Two of these men ...
Página 106
... blood and bone of mankind ; and the same man who would lend another a thousand pounds without interest , would not buy a horse of him for half its value if he could help it . It is so there's no denying it ; and therefore I will have as ...
... blood and bone of mankind ; and the same man who would lend another a thousand pounds without interest , would not buy a horse of him for half its value if he could help it . It is so there's no denying it ; and therefore I will have as ...
Página 5
... blood - red tresses deep'ning in the sun , With death - shot glowing in his fiery hands , And eye that scorcheth all it glares upon ; Restless it rolls , now fix'd , and now anon Flashing afar , -and at his iron feet Destruction cowers ...
... blood - red tresses deep'ning in the sun , With death - shot glowing in his fiery hands , And eye that scorcheth all it glares upon ; Restless it rolls , now fix'd , and now anon Flashing afar , -and at his iron feet Destruction cowers ...
Página 9
... his wiry dome Till the blood tinge his plumage , so the heat Of his impeded soul would through his bosom eat . CHILDE HAROLD . - Canto III . WATERLOO . : STOP ! -for thy tread is on HAROLD'S PREFERENCE OF NATURE TO SOCIETY.
... his wiry dome Till the blood tinge his plumage , so the heat Of his impeded soul would through his bosom eat . CHILDE HAROLD . - Canto III . WATERLOO . : STOP ! -for thy tread is on HAROLD'S PREFERENCE OF NATURE TO SOCIETY.
Página 11
... blood alone could quell ; He rush'd into the field , and , foremost fighting , fell.t 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 Blush'd ...
... blood alone could quell ; He rush'd into the field , and , foremost fighting , fell.t 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 Blush'd ...
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Selections from the Writings of Lord Byron, by a Clergyman [W. Elwin] George Gordon N Byron (6th Baron ) No hay ninguna vista previa disponible - 2015 |
Términos y frases comunes
Anah Armenia Auld Lang Syne beauty beneath blue breast breath brow calm CHARLES SKINNER CHILDE HAROLD.-Canto CORSAIR dark dash dead death deep desolate DON JUAN dream earth Edinburgh Review fame father fear feel foam foes friends gaze gentle GIAOUR glory grave Harrow hath hear heard heart heaven honour hope hour knew LADY BYRON letter living lone look look'd Lord Byron Madame de Stael mind Moore mountains Murray ne'er never NEWSTEAD ABBEY night o'er once pass'd passion poem poet poetical poetry PRISONER OF CHILLON Ravenna recollect round sail Samian wine scarce scene seem'd Sheridan shine shore SIEGE OF CORINTH sigh smile soul spirit stars steed stood sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thousand turn'd twas Venice voice walls waters waves weep wild wind wings words
Pasajes populares
Página 11 - 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 Blush'd 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 13 - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms — the day Battle's magnificently stern array...
Página 21 - 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 I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
Página 12 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, — alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass...
Página 135 - 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 withered and strown.
Página 91 - It might be months, or years, or days, I kept no count, I took no note, I had no hope my eyes to raise, And clear them of their dreary mote...
Página 22 - 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...
Página 45 - 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, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.
Página 27 - I STOOD in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs ; A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Página 27 - In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more, And silent rows the songless gondolier ; Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, And music meets not always now the ear : Those days are gone — but Beauty still is here. States fall, arts fade — but Nature doth not die, Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy ! IV.