The Complete Poetical Works of Lord ByronMacmillan, 1907 - 1314 sidor |
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Sida 38
... blood - stain'd Guilt , repenting , solace found , Or Innocence from stern Oppression flew . 7 . A monarch bade thee , from that wild , arise , Where Sherwood's outlaws , once , were wont to prowl : And Superstition's crimes of various ...
... blood - stain'd Guilt , repenting , solace found , Or Innocence from stern Oppression flew . 7 . A monarch bade thee , from that wild , arise , Where Sherwood's outlaws , once , were wont to prowl : And Superstition's crimes of various ...
Sida 48
... blood stains h side ? Dark Oscar's sable crest is low , The dart has drunk his vital tide . 74 . And Mora's eye could Allan move , She bade his wounded pride rebel : Alas ! that eyes , which beam'd wit love , Should urge the soul to ...
... blood stains h side ? Dark Oscar's sable crest is low , The dart has drunk his vital tide . 74 . And Mora's eye could Allan move , She bade his wounded pride rebel : Alas ! that eyes , which beam'd wit love , Should urge the soul to ...
Sida 54
... blood prepare , 231 With me the conquest and the labour share : Here lies our path ; lest any hand arise , Watch thou , while many a dreaming chieftain dies ; I'll carve our passage , through the heed- less foe , And clear thy road ...
... blood prepare , 231 With me the conquest and the labour share : Here lies our path ; lest any hand arise , Watch thou , while many a dreaming chieftain dies ; I'll carve our passage , through the heed- less foe , And clear thy road ...
Sida 60
... blood . Lochlin's sons had fled before his angry spear ; but mild was the eye of Calmar ; soft was the flow of his yellow locks : they streamed like the meteor of the night . No maid was the sigh of his soul : his thoughts were given to ...
... blood . Lochlin's sons had fled before his angry spear ; but mild was the eye of Calmar ; soft was the flow of his yellow locks : they streamed like the meteor of the night . No maid was the sigh of his soul : his thoughts were given to ...
Sida 61
... blood of Mathon shall reek on mine : but shall I slay him sleeping , Son of Mora ? No ! he shall feel his wound : my fame shall not soar on the blood of slumber . Rise , Mathon , rise ! The Son of Conna calls ; thy life is his ; rise to ...
... blood of Mathon shall reek on mine : but shall I slay him sleeping , Son of Mora ? No ! he shall feel his wound : my fame shall not soar on the blood of slumber . Rise , Mathon , rise ! The Son of Conna calls ; thy life is his ; rise to ...
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Andra upplagor - Visa alla
The Complete Poetical Works of Lord Byron George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1905 |
The Complete Poetical Works of Lord Byron George Gordon Byron Baron Byron,Paul Elmer More Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1905 |
The Complete Poetical Works of Lord Byron George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1905 |
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Populära avsnitt
Sida 277 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
Sida 285 - The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war, — These are thy toys, and as the snowy flake They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride or spoils of Trafalgar.* Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee, — Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they?
Sida 455 - 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.
Sida 285 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore. There is society where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar; I love not man the less, but nature more...
Sida 223 - Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet But hark! - that heavy sound breaks in once more, As if the clouds its echo would repeat; And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! Arm! Arm! it is - it is - the cannon's opening roar!
Sida 418 - And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord...
Sida 223 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips — "The foe! They come! they come! " XXVI. And wild and high the "Cameron's gathering
Sida 452 - Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth; And constancy lives in realms above; And life is thorny; and youth is vain; And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain.
Sida 496 - There were giants in the earth in those days ; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown.
Sida 419 - When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this. The dew of the morning Sunk chill on my brow — It felt like the warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame: I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame. They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o'er me — Why wert thou so dear? They know not I knew thee, Who knew thee too...