Select Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: In Two Volumes, Volumen 2John Murray, 1823 |
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Página 16
... perch on mine , 280 But knowing well captivity , Sweet bird ! I could not wish for thine Or if it were , in winged guise , A visitant from Paradise ; For - Heaven forgive that thought ! the while Which 16 THE PRISONER OF CHILLON .
... perch on mine , 280 But knowing well captivity , Sweet bird ! I could not wish for thine Or if it were , in winged guise , A visitant from Paradise ; For - Heaven forgive that thought ! the while Which 16 THE PRISONER OF CHILLON .
Página 37
... sweet moon on the horizon's verge The maid was on the eve of womanhood ; The boy had fewer summers , but his heart Had far outgrown his and to his eye years , There was but one beloved face on earth , And that was shining on him ; he ...
... sweet moon on the horizon's verge The maid was on the eve of womanhood ; The boy had fewer summers , but his heart Had far outgrown his and to his eye years , There was but one beloved face on earth , And that was shining on him ; he ...
Página 14
... sweet and melancholy sounds , As music on the waters ; and I see The steady aspect of a clear large star ; But nothing more . Approach me as ye are , Or one , or all , in your accustom'd forms . SPIRIT . We have no forms beyond the ...
... sweet and melancholy sounds , As music on the waters ; and I see The steady aspect of a clear large star ; But nothing more . Approach me as ye are , Or one , or all , in your accustom'd forms . SPIRIT . We have no forms beyond the ...
Página 21
... sweet bells of the sauntering herd ; My soul would drink those echoes . - Oh , that I were The viewless spirit of a lovely sound , A living voice , a breathing harmony , A bodiless enjoyment - born and dying With the blest tone which ...
... sweet bells of the sauntering herd ; My soul would drink those echoes . - Oh , that I were The viewless spirit of a lovely sound , A living voice , a breathing harmony , A bodiless enjoyment - born and dying With the blest tone which ...
Página 30
... , to be bestrode by Death , As told in the Apocalypse . No eyes But mine now drink this sight of loveliness ; I should be sole in this sweet solitude , And with the Spirit of the place divide The homage 30 ACT II . MANFRED .
... , to be bestrode by Death , As told in the Apocalypse . No eyes But mine now drink this sight of loveliness ; I should be sole in this sweet solitude , And with the Spirit of the place divide The homage 30 ACT II . MANFRED .
Términos y frases comunes
ABBOT ALBEMARLE-STREET answer'd Arimanes art thou Astarte beautiful behold Beppo blood Bonnivard breath bright brow Cavalier Servente chain change came o'er clay clouds cold curse dare darkness death deep desolation dost doth dread dream dungeon dwell earth eyes face fame fear feel friends gazed Geneve Giorgione glance glory grave hand hast hath heart heaven HEBREW MELODIES hour hues immortal knew Laura light live look LORD BYRON MANFRED MANUEL Mariamne mind mix'd MONODY mortal mountain ne'er never night o'er the spirit once pain PARISINA pass'd Pausanias PRISONER OF CHILLON SCENE seem'd shalt sleep slumber smile song soul speak stars stood sunbow's sweet tears thee thine things thou art Thou canst thought throne thyself torture twas twere Twill voice walls wandering wave weep WHITEFRIARS wild WITCH words youth ΜΑΝ Аввот
Pasajes populares
Página 2 - 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 12 - 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 Was as a mockery of the tomb, Whose tints as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray...
Página 46 - The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. 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 16 - None lived to love me so again, And cheering from my dungeon's brink, Had brought me back to feel and think. I know not if it late were free, Or broke its cage to perch on mine, But knowing well captivity, Sweet bird! I could not wish for thine!
Página 4 - But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's spoil, And mine has been the fate of those To whom the goodly earth and air Are...
Página 4 - And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent ! THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.
Página 16 - ... roses rear Their leaves, the earliest of the year; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom: And oft by yon blue gushing stream Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, And feed deep thought with many a dream, And lingering pause and lightly tread: Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead!
Página 47 - 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. For the angel of death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd; And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still...
Página 21 - With spiders I had friendship made, And watched 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 learned to dwell. My very chains and I grew friends, So much a long communion tends To make us what we are: — even I Regained my freedom with a sigh.
Página 15 - A light broke in upon my brain, — It was the carol of a bird ; It ceased, and then it came again, The sweetest song ear ever heard...