The works of ... lord Byron, Volym 5 |
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... hope would win , without consent Of that inexorable sire , Whose heart refused him in its ire , When Alp , beneath his Christian name , 140 Her virgin hand aspired to claim . In happier mood , and earlier time , While unimpeached for ...
... hope would win , without consent Of that inexorable sire , Whose heart refused him in its ire , When Alp , beneath his Christian name , 140 Her virgin hand aspired to claim . In happier mood , and earlier time , While unimpeached for ...
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... hope , misnamed " forlorn , " Who hold the thought of death in scorn , And win their way with falchions ' force , Or pave the path with many a corse , O'er which the following brave may rise , 195 Their stepping - stone - the last who ...
... hope , misnamed " forlorn , " Who hold the thought of death in scorn , And win their way with falchions ' force , Or pave the path with many a corse , O'er which the following brave may rise , 195 Their stepping - stone - the last who ...
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... hope from mercy's aid , — 850 To the last a renegade . XXVIII . Fearfully the yell arose Of his followers , and his foes ; These in joy , in fury those : Then again in conflict mixing , 855 Clashing swords , THE SIEGE OF CORINTH . 59.
... hope from mercy's aid , — 850 To the last a renegade . XXVIII . Fearfully the yell arose Of his followers , and his foes ; These in joy , in fury those : Then again in conflict mixing , 855 Clashing swords , THE SIEGE OF CORINTH . 59.
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... hope , is convinced that I have not been a wilful plagiarist . The original idea undoubtedly per- tains to Mr. Coleridge , whose poem has been composed above fourteen years . Let me conclude by a hope that he will not longer delay the ...
... hope , is convinced that I have not been a wilful plagiarist . The original idea undoubtedly per- tains to Mr. Coleridge , whose poem has been composed above fourteen years . Let me conclude by a hope that he will not longer delay the ...
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... . IV . With many a lingering look they leave The spot of guilty gladness past ; And though they hope , and vow , they grieve , As if that parting were the last . 50 The frequent sigh - the long embrace- The lip that 86 PARISINA .
... . IV . With many a lingering look they leave The spot of guilty gladness past ; And though they hope , and vow , they grieve , As if that parting were the last . 50 The frequent sigh - the long embrace- The lip that 86 PARISINA .
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The works of lord Byron, Volym 5 George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1823 |
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aught Azo's beautiful music beneath blood blow breast breath bride bright brow cheek chief chill Christian cloud cold Corinth dared dark dead death deed deemed deep doom dream earth Este's faithless fame fast feel fell felt flash flow gaze glance Glory grave Greece guilt hand hath heard heaven hollow heart host hour Hugo immortally jackal John Stevenson light line 13 lips look Lord Byron maid midnight Minotti moon Morea Moslem Napoli ne'er never Note numbered o'er Parisina passed plain poem pride rolled Romania rose sabre Salamis shine shone shore SIEGE OF CORINTH sigh sire smiled soul sound spirit STANZAS FOR MUSIC star steed stone stood sweet sword tears tender thine thou thought thunder thy heart turban Turcoman Venice Vizier voice wall waves ween weep wild words Wormwood youth
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Sida 145 - FARE thee well! and if for ever, Still for ever, fare thee well • Even though unforgiving, never 'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel. Would that breast were bared before thee Where thy head so oft hath lain, While that placid sleep came o'er thee Which thou ne'er canst know again:
Sida 183 - And the name of the star is called Wormwood: " and the third part of the waters became wormwood; and " many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter.
Sida 141 - beneath. 5. Oh could I feel as I have felt,—or be what I have been, Or weep as I could once have wept, o'er many a vanished scene: As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish though they be, So midst the wither'd waste of life, those tears would flow to me.
Sida 137 - They know not I knew thee, Who knew thee too well:— Long, long shall I rue thee, Too deeply to tell. 4. In secret we met— In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee?— With silence and tears. 1808. STANZAS FOR MUSIC.*
Sida 142 - winds seem dreaming, And the midnight moon is weaving Her bright chain o'er the deep; Whose breast is gently heaving, As an infant's asleep : So the spirit bows before thee, To listen and adore thee ; With a full but soft emotion, Like the swell of Summer's ocean.
Sida 179 - While Eloquence—Wit—Poesy—and Mirth, That humbler Harmonist of care on Earth, Survive within our souls—while lives our sense Of pride in Merit's proud pre-eminence, Long shall we seek his likeness—long in vain, And turn to all of him which may remain, Sighing that Nature formed but one such man, And broke the die—in moulding Sheridan!
Sida 109 - XV. The Convent bells are ringing, But mournfully and slow; In the grey square turret swinging, With a deep sound, to and fro. Heavily to the heart they go ! Hark ! the hymn is singing— The song for the dead below, Or the living who shortly shall be so ! For a departing being's soul
Sida 130 - 3. When fortune changed—and love fled far, And hatred's shafts flew thick and fast, Thou wert the solitary star Which rose and set not to the last. 4. Oh! blest be thine unbroken light! That watched me as a seraph's eye, And stood between me and the night, For ever shining sweetly nigh.
Sida 147 - wouldst solace gather, When our child's first accents flow, Wilt thou teach her to say " Father !" Though his care she must forego ? When her little hands shall press thee, When her lip to thine is prest, Think of him whose prayer shall bless thee, Think of him thy love had bless'd
Sida 176 - The foe—the fool—the jealous—and the vain, The envious who but breathe in others' pain, Behold the host! delighting to deprave, Who track the steps of Glory to the grave, Watch every fault that daring Genius owes Half to the ardour which its birth bestows, Distort the truth, accumulate the lie, And pile the Pyramid of Calumny