The poetical works of lord Byron, Side 11,Bind 3 |
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Side 9
... beauty lingers , ) And mark'd the mild angelic air , The rapture of repose that's there , " The fix'd yet tender traits that streak The languor of the placid cheek , And - but for that sad shrouded eye , That fires not , wins not ...
... beauty lingers , ) And mark'd the mild angelic air , The rapture of repose that's there , " The fix'd yet tender traits that streak The languor of the placid cheek , And - but for that sad shrouded eye , That fires not , wins not ...
Side 10
... beauty with that fearful bloom , That hue which haunts it to the tomb , Expression's last receding ray , A gilded halo hovering round decay , The farewell beam of Feeling past away ! Spark of that flame , perchance of heavenly birth ...
... beauty with that fearful bloom , That hue which haunts it to the tomb , Expression's last receding ray , A gilded halo hovering round decay , The farewell beam of Feeling past away ! Spark of that flame , perchance of heavenly birth ...
Side 17
... Beauty's song ; And softer seem'd each melting tone Of Music mingled with its own . But ne'er shall Hassan's Age repose Along the brink at twilight's close : The stream that fill'd that font is fled- The blood that warm'd his heart is ...
... Beauty's song ; And softer seem'd each melting tone Of Music mingled with its own . But ne'er shall Hassan's Age repose Along the brink at twilight's close : The stream that fill'd that font is fled- The blood that warm'd his heart is ...
Side 19
... Beauty lures the full - grown child , With hue as bright , and wing as wild : A chase of idle hopes and fears , Begun in folly , closed in tears . 3 The blue - winged butterfly of Kashmecr , the most rare and beautiful of the species ...
... Beauty lures the full - grown child , With hue as bright , and wing as wild : A chase of idle hopes and fears , Begun in folly , closed in tears . 3 The blue - winged butterfly of Kashmecr , the most rare and beautiful of the species ...
Side 20
... beauty gone , ' Tis left to fly or fall alone . With wounded wing , or bleeding breast , Ah ! where shall either victim rest ? Can this with faded pinion soar From rose to tulip as before ? Or Beauty , blighted in an hour , Find joy ...
... beauty gone , ' Tis left to fly or fall alone . With wounded wing , or bleeding breast , Ah ! where shall either victim rest ? Can this with faded pinion soar From rose to tulip as before ? Or Beauty , blighted in an hour , Find joy ...
Indhold
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51 | |
95 | |
160 | |
199 | |
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357 | |
373 | |
380 | |
Almindelige termer og sætninger
Amaun arms band beauty beneath Beppo blood bosom breast breath bride Bride of Abydos brow cheek Christian Conrad Corsair courser dare dark dead death deed deep despair doom dread dream earth fate fear feel fell fix'd foes gaze Giaffir Giaour glance grave grief Gulnare hand Haram hate hath head heard heart heaven hope hour Houris isle knew Koran Lara Lara's light limbs lips living lonely look look'd Lord Byron Mazeppa Mussulman ne'er never night nought numbers o'er once Pacha pale Parisina pass'd perchance poem rage rest rose round scarce seem'd Selim shore Siege of Corinth sigh silent slave smile soothe soul sound spirit stamp'd steed stern strife tale tears tell thee thine thou thought Timariot Turkish turn'd Twas voice wave Whate'er wild wind words wound youth Zuleika
Populære passager
Side 271 - PRISONER OF CHILLON." MY hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears :+ My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's spoil, And mine has been the fate of those To whom the goodly earth and air Are bann'd, and barr'd — forbidden fare...
Side 10 - 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 101 - O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, Survey our empire, and behold our home ! These are our realms, no limits to their sway— Our flag the sceptre all who meet obey.
Side 267 - ETERNAL spirit of the chainless mind ! Brightest in dungeons, Liberty, thou art ! For there thy habitation is the heart, — The heart which love of thee alone can bind ; And when thy sons to fetters are consigned, — To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind.
Side 136 - Salamis ! Their azure arches through the long expanse More deeply purpled meet his mellowing glance, And tenderest tints, along their summits driven, Mark his gay course, and own the hues of heaven ; Till, darkly shaded from the land and deep, Behind his Delphian cliff he sinks to sleep.
Side 136 - O'er the hush'd deep the yellow beam he throws Gilds the green wave, that trembles as it glows. On old /Egina's rock, and Idra's isle, The god of gladness sheds his parting smile; O'er his own regions lingering, loves to shine, Though there his altars are no more divine.
Side 5 - Knolles,'* he said at Missolonghi, a few weeks before his death, " was one of the first books that gave me pleasure when a child ; and I believe it had much influence on my future wishes to visit the Levant, and gave, perhaps, the oriental colouring which is observed in my poetry.
Side 84 - 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...
Side 339 - No, no ! from out the forest prance A trampling troop ; I see them come ! In one vast squadron they advance ! I strove to cry — my lips were dumb. The steeds rush on in plunging pride ; But where are they the reins to guide ? A thousand horse, and none to ride ! With flowing tail, and flying mane, Wide nostrils never stretch...
Side 331 - T was but a day he had been caught ; And snorting, with erected mane, And struggling fiercely, but in vain, In the full foam of wrath and dread To me the desert-born was led : They bound me on, that menial throng, Upon his back with many a thong ; Then loosed him with a sudden lash — Away ! — away ! — and on we dash ! Torrents less rapid and less rash.