The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: Childe HaroldJohn Murray, 1817 |
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Page 12
... costly wine , And all that mote to luxury invite , Without a sigh he left , to cross the brine , And traverse Paynim shores , and pass Earth's central line . XII . The sails were filled , and fair the 12 Canto I. CHILDE HAROLD'S.
... costly wine , And all that mote to luxury invite , Without a sigh he left , to cross the brine , And traverse Paynim shores , and pass Earth's central line . XII . The sails were filled , and fair the 12 Canto I. CHILDE HAROLD'S.
Page 13
... the dim twilight . While flew the vessel on her snowy wing , And fleeting shores receded from his sight , Thus to the elements he poured his last " Good Night . " 1 . " ADIEU , adieu ! my native shore Canto I. 13 PILGRIMAGE .
... the dim twilight . While flew the vessel on her snowy wing , And fleeting shores receded from his sight , Thus to the elements he poured his last " Good Night . " 1 . " ADIEU , adieu ! my native shore Canto I. 13 PILGRIMAGE .
Page 14
George Gordon Byron Baron Byron. 1 . " ADIEU , adieu ! my native shore Fades o'er the waters blue ; The Night - winds sigh , the breakers roar , And shrieks the wild seamew . Yon Sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight ...
George Gordon Byron Baron Byron. 1 . " ADIEU , adieu ! my native shore Fades o'er the waters blue ; The Night - winds sigh , the breakers roar , And shrieks the wild seamew . Yon Sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight ...
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... shores descried make every bosom gay ; And Cintra's mountain greets them on their way , And Tagus dashing onward to the deep , His fabled golden tribute bent to pay ; And soon on board the Lusian pilots leap , And steer ' twixt fertile ...
... shores descried make every bosom gay ; And Cintra's mountain greets them on their way , And Tagus dashing onward to the deep , His fabled golden tribute bent to pay ; And soon on board the Lusian pilots leap , And steer ' twixt fertile ...
Page 29
... last the spoilers to their shore ? Red gleamed the cross , and waned the crescent pale , While Afric's echoes thrilled with Moorish matrons ' wail . XXXVI . Teems not each ditty with the glorious tale Čunto I. 29 PILGRIMAGE .
... last the spoilers to their shore ? Red gleamed the cross , and waned the crescent pale , While Afric's echoes thrilled with Moorish matrons ' wail . XXXVI . Teems not each ditty with the glorious tale Čunto I. 29 PILGRIMAGE .
Autres éditions - Tout afficher
The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: Childe Harold. 1 George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Affichage du livre entier - 1818 |
The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: Childe Harold. 1 George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Affichage du livre entier - 1818 |
The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron, Volume 1 George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Affichage du livre entier - 1818 |
Fréquemment cités
Page 68 - Look on its broken arch, its ruin'd wall, Its chambers desolate, and portals foul : Yes, this was once Ambition's airy hall, The dome of Thought, the palace of the Soul: Behold through each lack-lustre, eyeless hole, The gay recess of Wisdom and of Wit And Passion's host, that never brook'd control : Can all saint, sage, or sophist ever writ, People this lonely tower, this tenement refit ? VII. Well didst thou speak, Athena's wisest son ! "All that we know is, nothing can be known.
Page 128 - Insatiate archer ! could not one suffice ? Thy shaft flew thrice ; and thrice my peace was slain ; And thrice, ere thrice yon moon had fill'd her horn.
Page 32 - By Heaven ! it is a splendid sight to see (For one who hath no friend, no brother there) Their rival scarfs of mix'd embroidery, Their various arms that glitter in the air ! What gallant war-hounds rouse them from their lair, And gnash their fangs, loud yelling for the prey ! All join the chase, but few the triumph share ; The Grave shall bear the chiefest prize away, And Havoc scarce for joy can number their array.
Page 127 - Eximia veste et victu convivia, ludi, pocula crebra, unguenta coronae serta parantur, nequiquam, quoniam medio de fonte leporum surgit amari aliquid quod in ipsis floribus angat...
Page 130 - Man, proud man, Drest in a little brief authority, Plays such fantastic tricks before high Heaven As make the angels weep.
Page 105 - Fair Greece! sad relic of departed worth! Immortal, though no more; though fallen, great! Who now shall lead thy scattered children forth, And long accustomed bondage uncreate?
Page 31 - Lo! where the Giant on the mountain stands, His blood-red tresses deep'ning in the sun, With death-shot glowing in his fiery hands, And eye that scorcheth all it glares upon; Restless it rolls, now fix'd, and now anon Flashing afar, - and at his iron feet Destruction cowers, to mark what deeds are done; For on this morn three potent nations meet, To shed before his shrine the blood he deems most sweet.
Page 89 - Where'er we gaze, around, above, below, What rainbow tints, what magic charms are found! Rock, river, forest, mountain all abound, And bluest skies that harmonize the whole : Beneath, the distant torrent's rushing sound Tells where the volumed cataract doth roll Between those hanging rocks, that shock yet please the soul.
Page 139 - The Arnaouts, or Albanese, struck me forcibly by their resemblance to the Highlanders of Scotland, in dress, figure, and manner of living. Their very mountains seemed Caledonian, with a kinder climate. The kilt, though white ; the spare, active form ; their dialect, Celtic in its sound, and their hardy habits, all carried me back to Mprven.
Page 23 - Beneath yon mountain's ever beauteous brow : But now, as if a thing unblest by Man, Thy fairy dwelling is as lone as thou ! Here giant weeds a passage scarce allow To halls deserted, portals gaping wide : Fresh lessons to the thinking bosom, how Vain are the pleasaunces on earth supplied ; Swept into wrecks anon by Time's ungentle tide ! XXIV.