Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A RomauntMacmillan & Company, 1908 - 136 sidor |
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Sida 4
... stand Unheeded , searching through the crowd to find Fit speculation ; such as in strange land He found in wonder - works of God and Nature's hand . X1 . But who can view the ripen'd rose , nor seek To wear it ? who can curiously behold ...
... stand Unheeded , searching through the crowd to find Fit speculation ; such as in strange land He found in wonder - works of God and Nature's hand . X1 . But who can view the ripen'd rose , nor seek To wear it ? who can curiously behold ...
Sida 6
... How that red rain hath made the harvest grow ! And is this all the world has gain'd by thee , Thou first and last of fields ! king - making Victory ? XVIII . And Harold stands upon this place of skulls 6 CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE .
... How that red rain hath made the harvest grow ! And is this all the world has gain'd by thee , Thou first and last of fields ! king - making Victory ? XVIII . And Harold stands upon this place of skulls 6 CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE .
Sida 7
A Romaunt George Gordon Byron Baron Byron John Henry Fowler. XVIII . And Harold stands upon this place of skulls , The grave of France , the deadly Waterloo ! How in an hour the power which gave annuls Its gifts , transferring fame as ...
A Romaunt George Gordon Byron Baron Byron John Henry Fowler. XVIII . And Harold stands upon this place of skulls , The grave of France , the deadly Waterloo ! How in an hour the power which gave annuls Its gifts , transferring fame as ...
Sida 11
... Stands when its wind - worn battlements are gone ; The bars survive the captive they enthral ; The day drags through , though storms keep out the sun ; And thus the heart will break , yet brokenly live on : THE UNIVERS UGAN LIBRARIES ...
... Stands when its wind - worn battlements are gone ; The bars survive the captive they enthral ; The day drags through , though storms keep out the sun ; And thus the heart will break , yet brokenly live on : THE UNIVERS UGAN LIBRARIES ...
Sida 14
... stand or fall alone , Such scorn of man had help'd to brave the shock ; But men's thoughts were the steps which paved thy throne , Their admiration thy best weapon shone ; The part of Philip's son was thine , not then ( Unless aside thy ...
... stand or fall alone , Such scorn of man had help'd to brave the shock ; But men's thoughts were the steps which paved thy throne , Their admiration thy best weapon shone ; The part of Philip's son was thine , not then ( Unless aside thy ...
Vanliga ord och fraser
Aeneid Alps Apollo Belvedere arch Arqua Aventicum Bard beauty beheld beneath blood bosom bow'd breast breath bright brow Bucentaur Byron Canto Capitoline Museum charm Childe Harold CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE CLIFTON COLLEGE clouds crown darkness dead death deep desolate didst dome doth dust dwell earth Edited Egeria English Eternity eyes fair fall fame feel Florence foes gaze glory glow gondolier grave Greek hath heart heaven hues hyæna Idlesse immortal Italy J. H. FOWLER lake lake of Geneva Latian light lived mind mortal mountains Napoleon Nature Nature's night o'er ocean passion Petrarch poem poet proud Rhine rise rock Roman Rome ruin scatter'd scene shine shore smile song soul spirit stand stanza stars stream sweet Symplegades tears temple thee thine things thou thought throne thunder thunderstrike tomb tree tyrants unto Venetian Venice victory walls Waterloo waves wert wild wind woes word youth
Populära avsnitt
Sida 10 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, — alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass...
Sida 88 - He heard it, but he heeded not — his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away; He reck'd not of the life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother — he, their sire, Butchered to make a Roman holiday — All this rushed with his blood — shall he expire, And unavenged?
Sida 26 - I live not in myself, but I become Portion of that around me; and to me, High mountains are a feeling, but the hum Of human cities torture...
Sida 31 - Jura, whose capt heights appear Precipitously steep; and drawing near, There breathes a living fragrance from the shore, Of flowers yet fresh with childhood ; on the ear Drops the light drip of the suspended oar, Or chirps the grasshopper one good-night carol more...
Sida 32 - All heaven and earth are still — though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most; And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep : — All heaven and earth are still : — From the high host Of stars, to the lull'd lake and mountain-coast, All is concenter'd in a life intense, Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost, But hath a part of being, and a sense Of that which is of all Creator and defence, xc.
Sida 77 - There is the moral of all human tales ; Tis but the same rehearsal of the past, First Freedom, and then Glory — when that fails, Wealth, vice, corruption, — barbarism at last. And History, with all her volumes vast, Hath but one page...
Sida 101 - 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 pretty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth: — there let him lay.
Sida 1 - Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child ! Ada ! sole daughter of my house and heart ? When last I saw thy young blue eyes they smiled, And then we parted, — not as now we part, * But with a hope.
Sida 102 - 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...
Sida 68 - Scipios' tomb contains no ashes now; The very sepulchres lie tenantless Of their heroic dwellers: dost thou flow. Old Tiber ! through a marble wilderness ? Rise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress!