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The Works of Lord Byron: Complete in Five Volumes, Volume 3
George Gordon Noel Byron
Ingen förhandsgranskning - 2016
accents apostolic palace appear'd beneath Beppo blood Bonnivard bosom bound breast breath brow call'd Cavalier Servente Charles XII cheek Chillon Christian cold dare dark dead death deep dread dream dungeon earth Ezzelin faint falchion fate fear feel fell felt fix'd gather'd gazed Geneve Giorgione glance grave grew half hand hath head heard heart heaven Hetman hope horsetails hour Kaled knew Lara Lara's Laura less limbs lips look look'd LORD BYRON Mazeppa Minotti mix'd ne'er never night nought numbers o'er once Otho Otho's Parisina pass'd past PRISONER OF CHILLON renegado rest roll'd round scarce seem'd shone SIEGE OF CORINTH sigh sire smile soul sound spake steed stood tale tears thee thine things thou thought thousand Turcoman turn'd twas Venice voice wall waves Whate'er wild wish'd words wound youth
Sidan 161 - To him, with eyes as blue as heaven— For him my soul was sorely moved ; And truly might it be...
Sidan 157 - MY hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears :+ My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, 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 bann'd, and barr'd — forbidden fare...
Sidan 123 - It is the hour when lovers' vows Seem sweet in every whisper'd word; And gentle winds, and waters near, Make music to the lonely ear. Each flower the dews have lightly wet, And in the sky the stars are met, And on the wave is deeper blue, And on the leaf a browner hue, And in the heaven that clear obscure, So softly dark, and darkly pure, ' Which follows the decline of day, As twilight melts beneath the moon away.
Sidan 171 - But in it there were three tall trees, And o'er it blew the mountain breeze, And by it there were waters flowing, And on it there were young flowers growing Of gentle breath and hue.
Sidan 165 - He faded, and so calm and meek, So softly worn, so sweetly weak, So tearless, yet so tender — kind...
Sidan 155 - 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.
Sidan 237 - ... ayant été découverte, le mari le fit lier tout nu sur un cheval farouche, et le laissa aller en cet état. Le cheval, qui était du pays de l'Ukraine, y retourna, et y porta Mazeppa demi-mort de fatigue et de faim. Quelques paysans le secoururent : il resta longtemps parmi eux, et se signala dans plusieurs courses contre les Tartares.
Sidan 166 - In this last loss, of all the most ; And then the sighs he would suppress Of fainting nature's feebleness, More slowly drawn, grew less and less...
Sidan 18 - A thing of dark imaginings, that shaped By choice the perils he by chance escaped ; But 'scaped in vain, for in their memory yet His mind would half exult and half regret...
Sidan 203 - I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mouth. And sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables which breathe of the sweet South, And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in, That not a single accent seems uncouth, Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural, Which we're obliged to hiss, and spit, and sputter all.