The works of lord Byron, Volym 4 |
Från bokens innehåll
Resultat 1-5 av 16
Sida 20
... bands ; It is a sight the careful brow might smooth , And make Age smile , and dream itself to youth , And Youth forget such hour was past on earth , So springs the exulting bosom to that mirth ! XXI . And Lara gazed on these , sedately ...
... bands ; It is a sight the careful brow might smooth , And make Age smile , and dream itself to youth , And Youth forget such hour was past on earth , So springs the exulting bosom to that mirth ! XXI . And Lara gazed on these , sedately ...
Sida 44
... band : Desperate , though few , the last and best remain'd To mourn the discipline they late disdain'd , One hope survives , the frontier is not far , And thence they may escape from native war ; And bear within them to the neighbouring ...
... band : Desperate , though few , the last and best remain'd To mourn the discipline they late disdain'd , One hope survives , the frontier is not far , And thence they may escape from native war ; And bear within them to the neighbouring ...
Sida 45
... band , Or shall they onward press , or here withstand ? It matters little - if they charge the foes Who by the border - stream their march oppose , Some few , perchance , may break and pass the line , However link'd to baffle such ...
... band , Or shall they onward press , or here withstand ? It matters little - if they charge the foes Who by the border - stream their march oppose , Some few , perchance , may break and pass the line , However link'd to baffle such ...
Sida 46
... band may perish , or thy friends may flee , " Farewell to life , but not adieu to thee ! " The word hath pass'd his lips , and onward driven , Pours the link'd band through ranks asunder riven ; Well has each steed obey'd the armed heel ...
... band may perish , or thy friends may flee , " Farewell to life , but not adieu to thee ! " The word hath pass'd his lips , and onward driven , Pours the link'd band through ranks asunder riven ; Well has each steed obey'd the armed heel ...
Sida 70
... ; And the dusk Spahi's bands advance Beneath each bearded pasha's glance ; And far and wide as eye can reach The turban'd cohorts throng the beach ; And there the Arab's camel kneels , And there his 70 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH .
... ; And the dusk Spahi's bands advance Beneath each bearded pasha's glance ; And far and wide as eye can reach The turban'd cohorts throng the beach ; And there the Arab's camel kneels , And there his 70 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH .
Andra upplagor - Visa alla
The works of ... lord Byron, Volym 4 George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1816 |
The works of lord Byron, Volym 4 George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1830 |
The works of lord Byron, Volym 4 George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) Obegränsad förhandsgranskning - 1823 |
Vanliga ord och fraser
accents apostolic palace appear'd beneath Beppo blood Bonnivard bosom bound breast breath brow call'd Cavalier Servente Charles XII cheek CHILLON cold dare dark dead death deep dread dream dungeon earth Ezzelin faint falchion fame fate fear feel fell felt fix'd forgot 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 Mazeppa Minotti mix'd ne'er never night nought numbers o'er once Otho Otho's Parisina pass'd past Pleiad PRISONER OF CHILLON renegado rest roll'd round scarce seem'd seen shore 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 words wound youth
Populära avsnitt
Sida 161 - To him, with eyes as blue as heaven— For him my soul was sorely moved ; And truly might it be...
Sida 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...
Sida 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.
Sida 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.
Sida 165 - He faded, and so calm and meek, So softly worn, so sweetly weak, So tearless, yet so tender — kind...
Sida 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.
Sida 231 - ... 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.
Sida 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...
Sida 16 - 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...
Sida 201 - 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.