The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals and His Life, Volym 10

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John Murray, 1847
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Sida 93 - VI. 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 swonl, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord
Sida 237 - hers, and saw with hers, Which colour'd all his objects:—he had ceased To live within himself; she was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all: upon a tone, A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow, And his cheek change tempestuously—his heart Unknowing of its cause of agony.
Sida 190 - IV. Though human, thou didst not deceive me. Though woman, thou didst not forsake, Though loved, thou forborest to grieve me, Though slander'd, thou never couldst shake, . Though trusted, thou didst not disclaim me, Though parted, it was not to fly, Though watchful, 'twas not to defame me, Nor, mute, that the world might belie.
Sida 180 - tis done — all words are idle — Words from me are vainer still; But the thoughts we cannot bridle Force their way without the will.— Fare thee well! — thus disunited, Torn from every nearer tie, Scar'd in heart, and lone, and blighted, More than this I scarce can die. March 17. 1816. A
Sida 218 - Dying as their father died, For the God their foes denied; — Three were in a dungeon cast, Of whom this wreck is left the last. n. There are seven pillars of Gothic mould, In Chillon's dungeons deep and old, There are seven columns massy and grey, Dim with a dull imprison'd ray, A sunbeam which hath lost its way,
Sida 223 - soul was of that mould Which in a palace had grown cold, Had his free breathing been denied The range of the steep mountain's side; But why delay the truth?—he died.(') 1 saw, and could not hold his head, Nor reach his dying hand—nor dead, — Though hard I strove, but strove in vain, To rend and gnash
Sida 177 - cliffi, which had been rent asunder; A dreary sea now flows between. But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath been.
Sida 217 - change in hers was to be attributed. 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,
Sida 76 - melody once more rejoice The hearts that leap'd before its heavenly voice; in. Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast, How shall ye flee away and be at rest! The wild-dove hath her nest, the fox his cave. Mankind their country—Israel but the grave! ON JORDAN'S BANKS. ON
Sida 177 - could Would that breast were bared before thee Where thy head so oft hath lain, While that placid sleep came o'er thee Which thou ne'er canst know again: Would that breast, by thee glanced over, Every inmost thought could show! Then thou would'st at last discover 'Twas not well to spurn it so. Though the world for this

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