The works of ... lord Byron, Volumes 1 à 2 |
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Page 59
... woes , And Fancy hover o'er thy bloodless bier , Till my frail frame return to whence it rose , And mourned and mourner lie united in repose . XCIII . Here is one fytte of Harold's pilgrimage : Canto I. 59 PILGRIMAGE .
... woes , And Fancy hover o'er thy bloodless bier , Till my frail frame return to whence it rose , And mourned and mourner lie united in repose . XCIII . Here is one fytte of Harold's pilgrimage : Canto I. 59 PILGRIMAGE .
Page 81
... day or night she ever smiled , Though I have marked her when none other hath , And sought her more and more , and loved her best in wrath . VOL . I. F XXXVIII . Land of Albania ! where Iskander rose , Canto II . 81 PILGRIMAGE .
... day or night she ever smiled , Though I have marked her when none other hath , And sought her more and more , and loved her best in wrath . VOL . I. F XXXVIII . Land of Albania ! where Iskander rose , Canto II . 81 PILGRIMAGE .
Page 82
... rose , Theme of the young , and beacon of the wise , And he his name - sake , whose oft - baffled foes Shrunk from his deeds of chivalrous emprize : Land of Albania ! " let me bend mine eyes On thee , thou rugged nurse of savage men ...
... rose , Theme of the young , and beacon of the wise , And he his name - sake , whose oft - baffled foes Shrunk from his deeds of chivalrous emprize : Land of Albania ! " let me bend mine eyes On thee , thou rugged nurse of savage men ...
Page 85
... rose ! 16 Now , like the hands that reared them , withering : Imperial Anarchs , doubling human woes ! Gop ! was thy globe ordained for such to win and lose ? XLVI . From the dark barriers of that rugged clime Canto II . 85 PILGRIMAGE . >
... rose ! 16 Now , like the hands that reared them , withering : Imperial Anarchs , doubling human woes ! Gop ! was thy globe ordained for such to win and lose ? XLVI . From the dark barriers of that rugged clime Canto II . 85 PILGRIMAGE . >
Page 94
... rose , Whose bubbling did a genial freshness fling , And soft voluptuous couches breathed repose , ALI reclined , a man of war and woes ; Yet in his lineaments ye cannot trace , While Gentleness her milder radiance throws Along that ...
... rose , Whose bubbling did a genial freshness fling , And soft voluptuous couches breathed repose , ALI reclined , a man of war and woes ; Yet in his lineaments ye cannot trace , While Gentleness her milder radiance throws Along that ...
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?