Tales and poems |
Fra bogen
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Side 13
... pain , an age of crime . O'er him who loves , or hates , or fears , Such moment pours the grief of years : What felt he then , at once opprest By all that most distracts the breast ? That pause , which ponder'd o'er his fate , Oh , who ...
... pain , an age of crime . O'er him who loves , or hates , or fears , Such moment pours the grief of years : What felt he then , at once opprest By all that most distracts the breast ? That pause , which ponder'd o'er his fate , Oh , who ...
Side 18
... pain , the loss of peace , From infant's play and man's caprice : The lovely toy so fiercely sought Hath lost its charm by being caught , For every touch that woo'd its stay Hath brush'd its brightest hues away , Till charm , and hue ...
... pain , the loss of peace , From infant's play and man's caprice : The lovely toy so fiercely sought Hath lost its charm by being caught , For every touch that woo'd its stay Hath brush'd its brightest hues away , Till charm , and hue ...
Side 19
... pain , And darts into her desperate brain : So do the dark in soul expire , Or live like Scorpion girt by fire ; ( 17 ) So writhes the mind Remorse hath riven , Unfit for earth , undoom'd for heaven , Darkness above , despair beneath ...
... pain , And darts into her desperate brain : So do the dark in soul expire , Or live like Scorpion girt by fire ; ( 17 ) So writhes the mind Remorse hath riven , Unfit for earth , undoom'd for heaven , Darkness above , despair beneath ...
Side 32
... pain , I could not pass it by again ; It breathes the same dark spirit now , As death were stamp'd upon his brow . " " " T is twice three years at summer tide Since first among our frères he came ; And here it soothes him to abide For ...
... pain , I could not pass it by again ; It breathes the same dark spirit now , As death were stamp'd upon his brow . " " " T is twice three years at summer tide Since first among our frères he came ; And here it soothes him to abide For ...
Side 37
... , and woman's art , Can turn and tame the sterner heart ; From these its form and tone are ta'en , And what they make it , must remain , But break - before it bend again . If solitude succeed to grief , Release from pain is THE GIAOUR 37.
... , and woman's art , Can turn and tame the sterner heart ; From these its form and tone are ta'en , And what they make it , must remain , But break - before it bend again . If solitude succeed to grief , Release from pain is THE GIAOUR 37.
Almindelige termer og sætninger
Amaun arms band beauty beneath blood Bonnivard bosom bread and salt breast breath brow calpac chain cheek cloud Conrad Corinth dare dark dead death deed deep doom dread earth fair faithless fate fear feel fell fetter'd fire fix'd foes gaze Giaffir Giaour glance grave Greece grief Gulnare hand Haram Hassan hate hath head heard heart heaven Hellespont hope horsetails hour Houris isle Koran light line 12 lips living lonely look'd maid Morea Moslem Mussulman ne'er never night NOTE numbers o'er Pacha pale pass'd pride rest rose round sabre scarce seem'd seen Selim Seyd she-the shine shore silent slave smile soothe soul sound spirit stamp'd steed stern stood strife tale tears tell thee thine thou thought tide Timariot turban Turkish turn'd Twas voice wall wave wild wind words wound Zuleika
Populære passager
Side 276 - Less wretched now, and one day free ; He, too, who yet had held untired A spirit natural or inspired — He, too, was struck, and day by day Was withered on the stalk away. Oh, God ! it is a fearful thing To see the human soul take wing In any shape, in any mood...
Side 283 - It might be months, or years, or days, I kept no count — I took no note, I had no hope my eyes to raise And clear them of their dreary mote...
Side 277 - Between me and the eternal brink, Which bound me to my failing race, Was broken in this fatal place.
Side 13 - Twas but a moment that he stood, Then sped as if by death pursued : But in that instant o'er his soul Winters of Memory seem'd to roll, And gather in that drop of time A life of pain, an age of crime.
Side 67 - KNOW ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime ? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime...
Side 275 - His corse in dust whereon the day Might shine — it was a foolish thought, But then within my brain it wrought, That even in death his freeborn breast In such a dungeon could not rest. I might have spared my idle prayer — They coldly laugh'd, and laid him there: The flat and turfless earth above The being we so much did love; His empty chain above it leant...
Side 31 - But first, on earth as Vampire sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent ; Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race, There from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life ; • Yet loathe the banquet which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse ; Thy victims ere they yet expire , Shall know the dsemon for their sire, As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are wither'd on the stem.
Side 281 - With links unfasten'd did remain, And it was liberty to Stride Along my cell from side to side, And up and down, and then athwart, And tread it over every part; And round the pillars one by one, Returning where my walk begun, Avoiding only, as I trod, My brothers...
Side 143 - There breathe but few whose aspect might defy The full encounter of his searching eye: He had the skill, when Cunning's gaze would seek To probe his heart and watch his changing cheek, At once the observer's purpose to espy, And on himself roll back his scrutiny, Lest he to Conrad rather should betray Some secret thought, than drag that chiefs to day.
Side 8 - Bequeathed by bleeding Sire to Son, Though baffled oft is ever won. Bear witness, Greece, thy living page, Attest it many a deathless age ! While kings, in dusty darkness hid, Have left a nameless pyramid, Thy heroes, though the general doom Hath swept the column from their tomb, A mightier monument command, The mountains of their native land ! There points thy Muse to stranger's eye The graves of those that cannot die...