The Works of Lord Byron: Comprising the Suppressed Poems, Bind 4–5A. and W. Galignani, 1826 |
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Side 11
... 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 ...
... 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 ...
Side 19
... bear , Seems one that claims your utmost care , And , doubtless , holds some precious freight , My humble bark would gladly wait . » << Thou speakest sooth , thy skiff unmoor , And waft us from the silent shore ; Nay , leave the sail ...
... bear , Seems one that claims your utmost care , And , doubtless , holds some precious freight , My humble bark would gladly wait . » << Thou speakest sooth , thy skiff unmoor , And waft us from the silent shore ; Nay , leave the sail ...
Side 24
... arquebuss and ataghan ; The chief before , as deck'd for war , Bears in his belt the scimitar Stain'd with the best of Arnaut blood , When in the pass the rebels stood , And few return'd to tell the tale Of what befell 24 THE GIAOUR .
... arquebuss and ataghan ; The chief before , as deck'd for war , Bears in his belt the scimitar Stain'd with the best of Arnaut blood , When in the pass the rebels stood , And few return'd to tell the tale Of what befell 24 THE GIAOUR .
Side 31
... bears the gift at his saddle bow →→→ How could I deem his courser slow ? Right well my largess shall repay His ... bear . Peace to the brave ! whose blood is spilt : Woe to the Giaour ! for his the guilt . >> * A turban 32 carved ...
... bears the gift at his saddle bow →→→ How could I deem his courser slow ? Right well my largess shall repay His ... bear . Peace to the brave ! whose blood is spilt : Woe to the Giaour ! for his the guilt . >> * A turban 32 carved ...
Side 38
... thee to defend or kill ; A breast - plate for thine hour of need , Or blade to bid thy foeman bleed ; But if a dagger's form it bear , Let those who shape its edge , beware ! Thus passion's fire , and woman's art , Can turn 38 THE GIAOUR .
... thee to defend or kill ; A breast - plate for thine hour of need , Or blade to bid thy foeman bleed ; But if a dagger's form it bear , Let those who shape its edge , beware ! Thus passion's fire , and woman's art , Can turn 38 THE GIAOUR .
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accents Amaun apostolic palace arms band beheld beneath blood Bonnivard bosom breast breath bride BRIDE OF ABYDOS brow CANTO Cavalier Servente Cephisus cheek Conrad CORSAIR crime dare dark dead death deeds deep doom dread earth Ezzelin fair faithless fate fear feel fell fix'd foes gaze Giaffir Giaour glance grave Greece grief Gulnare hand Haram hate hath head heard heart heaven hope hour Houris knew land Lara Lara's light lips living lonely look look'd Morea Mussulman ne'er never night Note numbers o'er once Pacha pale Pallas Parisina pass'd pride rest rose round scarce seem'd Selim she-the shine shore SIEGE OF CORINTH sigh silent slave smile soothe soul sound steed stern stood strife tale tears tell thee thine thou thought Timariot turn'd voice wall wave Whate'er wild words wound youth Zuleika
Populære passager
Side 157 - Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar — for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard ! — May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
Side 172 - 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 169 - For he would never thus have flown, And left me twice so doubly lone, — Lone — as the corse within its shroud, Lone — as a solitary cloud, A single cloud on a sunny day, While all the rest of heaven is clear, A frown upon the atmosphere, That hath no business to appear When skies are blue, and earth is gay.
Side 9 - The fixed yet tender traits that streak The languor of the placid cheek, And — but for that sad shrouded eye, That fires not, wins not, weeps not, now, And but for that chill changeless brow, Where cold obstruction's apathy...
Side 166 - I found him not. 7 only stirred in this black spot; / only lived — / only drew The accursed breath of dungeon-dew; The last, the sole, the dearest link Between me and the eternal brink, Which bound me to my failing race, Was broken in this fatal place.
Side 166 - And not a word of murmur — not A groan o'er his untimely lot ! A little talk of better days, A little hope my own...
Side 9 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress, (Before Decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers...
Side 172 - These heavy walls to me had grown A hermitage — and all my own! And half I felt as they were come To tear me from a second home...
Side 170 - Who loved me in a human shape; And the whole earth would henceforth be A wider prison unto me : No child — no sire — no kin had I, No partner in my misery; I...
Side 163 - And I have felt the winter's spray Wash through the bars when winds were high And wanton in the happy sky; And then the very rock hath rock'd, And I have felt it shake unshock'd, Because I could have smiled to see The death that would have set me free.