Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Lord ByronJ. Robins and Company, 1825 - 756 pages |
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Page 17
... weep ! Yet are his tears no emblem of regret ; Cherish'd affection only bids them flow ! Pride , Hope , and Love , forbid him to forget , But warm his bosom with impassion'd glow . Yet he prefers thee to the gilded domes Or gewgaw ...
... weep ! Yet are his tears no emblem of regret ; Cherish'd affection only bids them flow ! Pride , Hope , and Love , forbid him to forget , But warm his bosom with impassion'd glow . Yet he prefers thee to the gilded domes Or gewgaw ...
Page 42
... weep ; Affliction's semblance bends not o'er thy tomb , Affliction's self deplores thy youthful doom . What though thy sire lament his failing line , A father's sorrows cannot equal mine ! Though none like thee his dying hour will cheer ...
... weep ; Affliction's semblance bends not o'er thy tomb , Affliction's self deplores thy youthful doom . What though thy sire lament his failing line , A father's sorrows cannot equal mine ! Though none like thee his dying hour will cheer ...
Page 48
... weep . Then , Morpheus ! envelop my faculties fast , Shed o'er me your languor benign ! Should the dream of to - night but resemble the last , What rapture celestial is mine ! They tell us that Slumber , the sister of Death ...
... weep . Then , Morpheus ! envelop my faculties fast , Shed o'er me your languor benign ! Should the dream of to - night but resemble the last , What rapture celestial is mine ! They tell us that Slumber , the sister of Death ...
Page 65
... weep . D - r - t , farewell ! I will not ask one part Of sad remembrance in so young a heart ; Thomas S - k - lle , Lord B - k - st , created Earl of D- by James the First , was one of the earliest and brightest ornaments to the poetry ...
... weep . D - r - t , farewell ! I will not ask one part Of sad remembrance in so young a heart ; Thomas S - k - lle , Lord B - k - st , created Earl of D- by James the First , was one of the earliest and brightest ornaments to the poetry ...
Page 68
... weeping glow , Thou art the cause of all her woe , Receptacle of life's decay . IMITATED FROM CATULLUS . TO ELLEN . Oh ! might I kiss those eyes of fire , A million scarce would quench desire ; Still would I steep my lips in bliss , And ...
... weeping glow , Thou art the cause of all her woe , Receptacle of life's decay . IMITATED FROM CATULLUS . TO ELLEN . Oh ! might I kiss those eyes of fire , A million scarce would quench desire ; Still would I steep my lips in bliss , And ...
Autres éditions - Tout afficher
Memoirs of the life and writings of lord Byron George Clinton (biographer of Byron.) Affichage du livre entier - 1825 |
Expressions et termes fréquents
Albania Ali Pacha arms beauty beneath blood bosom breast breath brow called Calmar canto character charms cheek Childe Harold Countess Guiccioli dare dark dead death deeds deem deep Doge doom dread dream earth fair fame father fear feel gaze gentle Giaour gondolier grave Greece hand hath heart heaven honour hope hour Juan knew lady Lady Byron Lady Morgan Lara Lara's less lips live look Lord Byron Lord Carlisle lordship Manfred mind mortal mountains ne'er never Newstead Abbey night noble o'er once Pacha pain Parisina passed passion perhaps person poem poet poetry pride reply Samian wine Sardanapalus scarce scene seemed shore Siegendorf sigh smile song sorrow soul spirit stanzas tale tears thee thine things thought twas Venice voice wave weep wild words young youth Zuleika
Fréquemment cités
Page 558 - You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet, Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one?
Page 749 - Bitter constraint and sad occasion dear Compels me to disturb your season due ; For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer.
Page 400 - Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery.
Page 328 - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms - the day Battle's magnificently stern array...
Page 392 - I STOOD in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs, A palace and a prison on each hand ; I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Page 557 - Must we but weep o'er days more blest? Must we but blush? Our fathers bled. Earth ! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead ! Of the three hundred grant but three, To make a new Thermopylae ! What, silent still?
Page 697 - My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of love are gone ; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone ! The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic isle ; No torch is kindled at its blaze — A funeral pile.
Page 327 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet But hark!
Page 344 - Twas still some solace in the dearth Of the pure elements of earth, To hearken to each other's speech, And each turn comforter to each, With some new hope, or legend old, Or song heroically bold ; But even these at length grew cold.
Page 348 - ... mate, But was not half so desolate, And it was come to love me when None lived to love me so again, And cheering from my dungeon's brink Had brought me back to feel and think.