The complete works of lord Byron with a biogr. and critical notice by J. W. Lake, Volúmenes 5-6

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Página 356 - And in each pillar there is a ring, And in each ring there is a chain; That iron is a cankering thing, For in these limbs its teeth remain, With marks that will not wear away...
Página 359 - A double dungeon wall and wave Have made — and like a living grave, Below the surface of the lake The dark vault lies wherein we lay...
Página 368 - With spiders I had friendship made, And watch'd them in their sullen trade, Had seen the mice by moonlight play, And why should I feel less than they ? We were all inmates of one place, And I, the monarch of each race, Had power to kill — yet, strange to tell ! In quiet we had learn'd to dwell. My very chains and I grew friends, So much a long communion tends To make us what we are ; — even I Regain'd my freedom with a sigh.
Página 362 - He faded, and so calm and meek, So softly worn, so sweetly weak, So tearless, yet so tender, kind, And grieved for those he left behind : With all the while a cheek whose bloom...
Página 118 - tis the land of the Sun — Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done? Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell.
Página 189 - There, in its centre, a sepulchral lamp Burns the slow flame, eternal — but unseen; Which not the darkness of despair can damp, Though vain its ray as it had never been.
Página 365 - None lived to love me so again, And cheering from my dungeon's brink, Had brought me back to feel and think.
Página 363 - Between me and the eternal brink, Which bound me to my failing race, Was broken in this fatal place. One on the earth, and one beneath — My brothers — both had ceased to breathe.
Página 117 - Gul in her bloom ; Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute, Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky, In color though varied, in beauty may vie...
Página 367 - Oh, thou beautiful And unimaginable ether ! and Ye multiplying masses of increased And still increasing lights ! what are ye ? what Is this blue wilderness of interminable Air, where ye roll along, as I have seen The leaves along the limpid streams of Eden ? Is your course measured for ye ? Or do ye Sweep on in your unbounded revelry Through an aerial universe of endless Expansion — at which my soul aches to think — Intoxicated with eternity...

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