Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A RomauntH. C. Baird, 1856 - 339 sidor |
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Sida 6
... ancient and modern times , ) few exceptions will be found to this statement ; and I fear a little investiga- tion will teach us not to regret these monstrous mummeries of the middle ages . I now leave " Childe Harold " to live his day ...
... ancient and modern times , ) few exceptions will be found to this statement ; and I fear a little investiga- tion will teach us not to regret these monstrous mummeries of the middle ages . I now leave " Childe Harold " to live his day ...
Sida 16
... ancient tales say true , nor wrong these holy men . VIII . Yet oft - times in his maddest mirthful mood Strange pangs would flash along Childe Harold's brow , As if the memory of some deadly feud Or disappointed passion lurk❜d below ...
... ancient tales say true , nor wrong these holy men . VIII . Yet oft - times in his maddest mirthful mood Strange pangs would flash along Childe Harold's brow , As if the memory of some deadly feud Or disappointed passion lurk❜d below ...
Sida 34
... ancient roundelays among . ' Whilome upon his banks did legions throng Of Moor and knight , in mailed splendour drest : Here ceased the swift their race , here sunk the strong ; The Paynim turban and the Christian crest Mix'd on the ...
... ancient roundelays among . ' Whilome upon his banks did legions throng Of Moor and knight , in mailed splendour drest : Here ceased the swift their race , here sunk the strong ; The Paynim turban and the Christian crest Mix'd on the ...
Sida 35
... ancient goddess , cries ; But wields not , as of old , her thirsty lance , Nor shakes her crimson plumage in the skies : Nor in the smoke of blazing bolts she flies , And speaks in thunder through yon engine's roar : In every peal she ...
... ancient goddess , cries ; But wields not , as of old , her thirsty lance , Nor shakes her crimson plumage in the skies : Nor in the smoke of blazing bolts she flies , And speaks in thunder through yon engine's roar : In every peal she ...
Sida 36
... ancient and modern poetry . Unlike the ' plume of Horror , ' or the ' eagle - winged Victory , ' described by our great epic poet , this gigantic figure is a distinct object , perfect in linea- ments , tremendous in operation , and ...
... ancient and modern poetry . Unlike the ' plume of Horror , ' or the ' eagle - winged Victory , ' described by our great epic poet , this gigantic figure is a distinct object , perfect in linea- ments , tremendous in operation , and ...
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1860 |
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1846 |
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1854 |
Vanliga ord och fraser
Alban hill Albanians amongst ancient Ariosto Athens beauty behold beneath better blood Boccaccio bosom breast Cæsar Calf antique called CANTO charms Childe Harold CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE church Cicero Cloth extra Constantinople dark death deem'd deep earth edition Egeria fair fame feel foes French gaze gilt gondoliers Greece Greek Half calf hand hath heart heaven hills Historical Notes honour hope hour Illustrated immortal Italian Italy Julius Cæsar lake land light Lord Byron maid mind moroc mortal mountains ne'er never o'er once palace pass passion Petrarch plain poem poet Pouqueville rock Roman Rome ruins says scene seems seen shore sigh smile song soul spirit spot stanza Tasso tears temple thee thine thing thou thought tion tomb traveller Turk Venetians Venice volume walls waves wild woes wolf
Populära avsnitt
Sida 249 - twas a pleasing fear; For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane, — as I do here.
Sida 127 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street : On with the dance ! let joy be unconfined ; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing hours with flying feet...
Sida 186 - The moon is up, and yet it is not night — Sunset divides the sky with her — a sea Of glory streams along the Alpine height Of blue Friuli's mountains ; heaven is free From clouds, but of all colours seems to be Melted to one vast Iris of the West, Where the day joins the past Eternity; While, on the other hand, meek Dian's crest Floats through the azure air — an island of the blest...
Sida 247 - His steps are not upon thy paths — thy fields Are not a spoil for him — thou dost arise And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray, And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth — there let him lay.
Sida 140 - Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine, And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, And fields which promise corn and wine, And scatter'd cities crowning these, Whose far white walls along them shine, Have strew'da scene, which I should see With double joy wert thou with me.
Sida 129 - 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...
Sida 178 - 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!
Sida 109 - tis haunted, holy ground, No earth of thine is lost in vulgar mould, But one vast realm of wonder spreads around, And all the Muse's tales seem truly told, Till the sense aches with gazing to behold The scenes our earliest dreams have dwelt upon: Each hill and dale, each deepening glen and wold Defies the power which crush'd thy temples gone: Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.
Sida 160 - Could I embody and unbosom now That which is most within me, — could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings, strong or weak, All that I would have sought, and all I seek, Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe— into one word, And that one word were Lightning, I would speak ; But as it is, I live and die unheard, With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword.
Sida 156 - Ye stars ! which are the poetry of heaven, If in your bright leaves we would read the fate Of men and empires, — 'tis to be forgiven, That in our aspirations to be great, Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state, And claim a kindred with you ; for ye are A beauty, and a mystery, and create G In us such love and reverence from afar, That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star.