The works of ... lord Byron, Volumes 1 à 2 |
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Page 7
... Who soon had left her charms for vulgar bliss , And spoiled her goodly lands to gild his waste , ” ; Nor calm domestic peace had ever deigned to taste . AA VI . And now Childe Harold was sore sick at Canto 1 . 7 PILGRIMAGE .
... Who soon had left her charms for vulgar bliss , And spoiled her goodly lands to gild his waste , ” ; Nor calm domestic peace had ever deigned to taste . AA VI . And now Childe Harold was sore sick at Canto 1 . 7 PILGRIMAGE .
Page 21
... Peace voluptuous lures was ever wont to shun . XXIII . Here didst thou dwell , here schemes of pleasure plan , Beneath yon mountain's ever beauteous brow : But now , as if a thing unblest by Man , Thy fairy dwelling is as lone as thou ...
... Peace voluptuous lures was ever wont to shun . XXIII . Here didst thou dwell , here schemes of pleasure plan , Beneath yon mountain's ever beauteous brow : But now , as if a thing unblest by Man , Thy fairy dwelling is as lone as thou ...
Page 24
... peace , though soothing to his soul : Again he rouses from his moping fits , But seeks not now the harlot and the bowl . Onward he flies , nor fixed as yet the goal Where he shall rest him on his pilgrimage ; And o'er him many changing ...
... peace , though soothing to his soul : Again he rouses from his moping fits , But seeks not now the harlot and the bowl . Onward he flies , nor fixed as yet the goal Where he shall rest him on his pilgrimage ; And o'er him many changing ...
Page 26
... peaceful still ' twixt bitterest foemen flow ; For proud each peasant as the noblest duke : Well doth the Spanish hind the difference know " Twixt him and Lusian slave , the lowest of the low , 6 XXXIV . But ere the mingling bounds have ...
... peaceful still ' twixt bitterest foemen flow ; For proud each peasant as the noblest duke : Well doth the Spanish hind the difference know " Twixt him and Lusian slave , the lowest of the low , 6 XXXIV . But ere the mingling bounds have ...
Page 31
... Peace to the perished ! may the warrior's meed And tears of triumph their reward prolong ! Till others fall where other chieftains lead Thy name shall circle round the gaping throng , And shine in worthless lays , the theme of transient ...
... Peace to the perished ! may the warrior's meed And tears of triumph their reward prolong ! Till others fall where other chieftains lead Thy name shall circle round the gaping throng , And shine in worthless lays , the theme of transient ...
Expressions et termes fréquents
Albanian Ali Pacha ancient Arnaout Athens beautiful behold beneath blood bosom breast brow caloyer Childe Harold CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE clime Constantinople dare dark dear death deeds deemed doom doth dread dwell earth Edinburgh Review ev'n fair fate fear foes gaze Giaffir Giaour Greece Greeks hand Hassan hath heard heart heaven honour hour land lonely Lord maid Moslem mountain ne'er never Note o'er Pacha passed Pouqueville rock Romaic sabre scarce scene shore shrine sigh slave smile song sooth soul Stanza steed tale tear thee thine thou Thrasybulus tomb turban Turkish Turks Twas wave youth Zuleika ἂν ἀπὸ αὐτὸς δὲν Διὰ νὰ εἶναι εἰς εἰς τὴν εἰς τὸ Ελλήνων ἐν ἕνα καὶ κὴ μὲ μὴ νὰ οἱ πῶς σᾶς τὰ τὰς τῇ τὴν τῆς τὸ τὸν τῷ τῶν ὡς
Fréquemment cités
Page 15 - Oh, Christ ! it is a goodly sight to see What Heaven hath done for this delicious land ! What fruits of fragrance blush on every tree ! What goodly prospects o'er the hills expand...
Page 82 - Gul in her bloom? Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute, Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky, In colour though varied, in beauty may vie, And the purple of Ocean is deepest in dye; Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine, And all, save the spirit of man, is divine? 'Tis the clime of the East; 'tis the land of the Sun— Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done ? Oh! wild as the accents of lovers...
Page 17 - The sunken glen, whose sunless shrubs must weep, The tender azure of the unruffled deep, The orange tints that gild the greenest bough, The torrents that from cliff to valley leap, The vine on high, the willow branch below, Mix'd in one mighty scene, with varied beauty glow.
Page 106 - Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild ; Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his...
Page 27 - Hark ! — heard you not those hoofs of dreadful note ? Sounds not the clang of conflict on the heath? Saw ye not whom the reeking sabre smote ; Nor saved your brethren ere they sank beneath Tyrants and tyrants' slaves? — the fires of death, The bale-fires flash on high : — from rock to rock Each volley tells that thousands cease to breathe ; Death rides upon the sulphury siroc, Red battle stamps his foot, and nations feel the shock.
Page 71 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er, or rarely been; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean;. This is not solitude; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled.
Page 83 - Zitza!" from thy shady brow, Thou small, but favour'd spot of holy ground ! 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 120 - Or, since that hope denied in worlds of strife, Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life ! The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray.
Page 101 - Hereditary bondsmen ! know ye not Who would be free themselves must strike the blow? By their right arms the conquest must be wrought? Will Gaul or Muscovite redress ye ? No ! True, they may lay your proud despoilers low, But not for you will freedom's altars flame.
Page 99 - 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?