The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals, and His Life, Volym 1

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Sida 285 - Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild; Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his...
Sida 287 - Maid of Athens, ere we part, Give, oh, give me back my heart! Or, since that has left my breast, Keep it now, and take the rest! Hear my vow before I go, ZtoT) p,ou, ads d^aira>. By those tresses unconfined, Woo'd by each /Egean wind; By those lids whose jetty fringe Kiss thy soft cheeks...
Sida 184 - But wild beasts of the desert shall lie there; and their houses shall be full of doleful creatures; and owls shall dwell there, and satyrs shall dance there.
Sida 58 - When I was yet a child, no childish play To me was pleasing ; all my mind was set Serious to learn and know, and thence to do What might be public good; myself I thought Born to that end, born to promote all truth, All righteous things...
Sida 47 - I do not recollect scarcely any thing equal to the transparent beauty of my cousin, or to the sweetness of her temper, during the short period of our intimacy. She looked as if she had been made out of a rainbow — all beauty and peace.
Sida 274 - Two days ago, I was nearly lost in a Turkish ship of war, owing to the ignorance of the captain and crew, though the storm was not violent. Fletcher yelled after his wife, the Greeks called on all the saints, the Mussulmans on Alia, the captain burst into tears, and ran below deck, telling us to call on God; the sails were split, the...
Sida 183 - I hold virtue, in general, or the virtues severally, to be only in the disposition, each a feeling, not a principle. I believe truth the prime attribute of the Deity, and death an eternal sleep, at least of the body. You have here a brief compendium of the sentiments of the wicked George, Lord Byron; 1 and, till I get a new suit, you will perceive I am badly clothed. I remain yours, etc., BYRON.
Sida 58 - But why should I his childish feats display ? Concourse, and noise, and toil he ever fled ; Nor cared to mingle in the clamorous fray Of squabbling imps; but to the forest sped, Or roam'd at large the lonely mountain's head, Or, where the maze of some bewilder'd stream To deep untrodden groves his footsteps led, There would he wander wild, till Phoebus' beam, Shot from the western cliff, released the weary team.
Sida 56 - We were on good terms, but his brother was my intimate friend. There were always great hopes of Peel, amongst us all, masters and scholars — and he has not disappointed them. As a scholar he was greatly my superior; as a declaimer and actor, I was reckoned at least his equal ; as a schoolboy, out of school, I was always in scrapes, and he never; and in school, he always knew his lesson, and I rarely, — but when I knew it, I knew it nearly as well. In general information, history, etc. etc., I...
Sida 14 - I had a very serious, saturnine, but kind young man, named Paterson, for a tutor. He was the son of my shoemaker, but a good scholar, as is common with the Scotch. He was a rigid presbyterian also. With him I began Latin in Ruddiman's grammar, and continued till I went to the 'Grammar School...

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