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The Works of Lord Byron: In Verse and in Prose, Including His Letters ...
George Gordon Byron Baron Byron
Affichage du livre entier - 1836
The Works of Lord Byron: In Verse and Prose. Including His Letters, Journals ...
George Gordon Byron Baron Byron
Affichage du livre entier - 1844
already altered answer appear arrived asked believe body Byron called Canto Childe copy course DEAR England English expect feel give glad gone Greek hands hear heard Hobhouse honour hope hour Italian Italy keep kind Lady late least leave less LETTER lines live London look Lord March matter mean meet mention mind months MOORE morning MURRAY never Newstead night obliged once opinion passed perhaps person poem Pray present probably published reason received recollect request Review seems seen sent short soon sorry speak stanzas suppose sure taken talk tell thank thing thought thousand told town truly Venice week whole wish worth write written wrote
Page 24 - The sky is changed! - and such a change! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!
Page 22 - Clear, placid Leman ! thy contrasted lake, With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction : once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
Page 24 - 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...
Page 18 - Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valour, rolling on the foe, And burning with high hope, shall moulder, cold and low.
Page 16 - 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. — Awaking with a start, The waters heave around me ; and on high The winds lift up their voices : I depart, Whither I know not ; but the hour's gone by, When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.
Page 22 - Are not the mountains, waves, and skies, a part Of me and of my soul, as I of them? Is not the love of these deep in my heart With a pure passion? should I not contemn All objects, if compared with these?
Page 24 - A sharer in thy fierce and far delight, — A portion of the tempest and of thee! How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea, And the big rain comes dancing to the earth ! And now again 'tis black, — and now, the glee Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain-mirth, As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth.
Page 15 - tis haunted, holy ground, No earth of thine is lost in vulgar mould, But one vast realm of wonder spreads around, And all the Muse's tales seem truly told, Till the sense aches with gazing to behold The scenes our earliest dreams have dwelt upon: Each hill and dale, each deepening glen and wold Defies the power which crush'd thy temples gone: Age shakes Athena's tower, but spares gray Marathon.
Page 20 - And peasant girls, with deep blue eyes, And hands which offer early flowers, Walk smiling o'er this paradise ; Above, the frequent feudal towers Through green leaves lift their walls of gray, And many a rock which steeply lowers, And noble arch in proud decay, Look o'er this vale of vintage-bowers.