Lord Byron Jugé Par Les Témoins de Sa Vie: My Recollections of Lord Byron; and Those of Eye-witnesses of His LifeHarper and Brothers, 1869 - 670 страници |
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Страница 19
... relied that the iden- tification could never have been thought of . At twenty - one conscience speaks louder than experience . But if we can jus- tify the accusation of his having been imprudent , can LORD BYRON . 19.
... relied that the iden- tification could never have been thought of . At twenty - one conscience speaks louder than experience . But if we can jus- tify the accusation of his having been imprudent , can LORD BYRON . 19.
Страница 29
... thought that Byron conceived him on being very strongly impressed by the sight of a nobleman who was accused of murder , and who was pointed out to him at the Cagliari theatre . " I always thought , " says Galt , who was present on the ...
... thought that Byron conceived him on being very strongly impressed by the sight of a nobleman who was accused of murder , and who was pointed out to him at the Cagliari theatre . " I always thought , " says Galt , who was present on the ...
Страница 34
... thought oth- erwise , but they preferred remaining silent , and to draw from that poetry the poetical riches of which they might be in want . Our intention being to consecrate a chapter to the exami- nation of the moral tendency of ...
... thought oth- erwise , but they preferred remaining silent , and to draw from that poetry the poetical riches of which they might be in want . Our intention being to consecrate a chapter to the exami- nation of the moral tendency of ...
Страница 50
... thought of his own fate . He was scarcely British by origin , and very little so by his turn of mind , or by his tastes or by the nature of his genius . " My ancestors are not Saxon , they are Norman , " he said ; " and my blood is all ...
... thought of his own fate . He was scarcely British by origin , and very little so by his turn of mind , or by his tastes or by the nature of his genius . " My ancestors are not Saxon , they are Norman , " he said ; " and my blood is all ...
Страница 55
... thought that I was not unworthy to love her . There chiefly I sought thee , there only I found thee ; Her glance was ... thoughts were for his daughter , who was growing up in the midst of her father's enemies , and for his beloved ...
... thought that I was not unworthy to love her . There chiefly I sought thee , there only I found thee ; Her glance was ... thoughts were for his daughter , who was growing up in the midst of her father's enemies , and for his beloved ...
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accused admiration affection amiable appeared beauty believe biographers Cadurcis called calumny canto cause Cephalonia character charm Childe Har Childe Harold circumstances Count Gamba Dallas death Don Juan England existence expressed eyes fame faults feeling felt friends friendship Galt gayety generosity genius Genoa Giaour give Greece grief happy Harrow heart hero Hobhouse honor human imagination intellectual Italy justice kind knew Lady Byron letter living Lord Byron Madame de Staël melancholy mind misanthropy Missolonghi moral mother Murray nature never Newstead Newstead Abbey noble opinion pantheism passion persons Pisa pleasure poem poet poetry praise proof qualities Ravenna religion rendered sadness satire says Moore sentiments Shelley soul speak spirit stanzas Stendhall sublime suffering talent tears thee thing thought tion true truth Venetia Venice verses virtue Walter Scott wish words write written wrote young youth
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Страница 531 - We know no spectacle so ridiculous as the British public in one of its periodical fits of morality. In general, elopements, divorces, and family quarrels, pass with little notice. We read the scandal, talk about it for a day, and forget it. But once in six or seven years our virtue becomes outrageous. We cannot suffer the laws of religion and decency to be violated. We must make a stand against vice. We must teach libertines, that the English people appreciate the importance of domestic ties.
Страница 121 - Fix'd in its own eternity. Above or Love, Hope, Hate, or Fear, It lives all passionless and pure : An age shall fleet like earthly year ; Its years as moments shall endure. Away, away, without a wing, O'er all, through all, its thought shall fly ; A nameless and eternal thing, Forgetting what it was to die.
Страница 233 - O'er the sea And from the mountains where I now respire, Fain would I waft such blessing upon thee, As, with a sigh, I deem thou might'st have been to me.
Страница 121 - Shall it survey, shall it recall : Each fainter trace that memory holds So darkly of departed years, In one broad glance the soul beholds, And all, that was, at once appears.
Страница 232 - To whom the shadows of far years extend : Albeit my brow thou never shouldst behold, My voice shall with thy future visions blend, And reach into thy heart, when mine is cold, A token and a tone, even from thy father's mould.
Страница 128 - But thou, of temples old, or altars new, Standest alone — with nothing like to thee — Worthiest of God, the holy and the true. Since Zion's desolation, when that He Forsook His former city, what could be, Of earthly structures, in His honour piled, Of a sublimer aspect? Majesty, Power, Glory, Strength, and Beauty, all are aisled In this eternal ark of worship undefiled.
Страница 126 - All heaven and earth are still — though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most; And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep...
Страница 329 - Oh ! that the Desert were my dwelling-place, With one fair Spirit for my minister, That I might all forget the human race, And, hating no one, love but only her ! Ye Elements ! in whose ennobling stir I feel myself exalted — Can ye not Accord me such a being ? Do I err In deeming such inhabit many a spot ? Though with them to converse can rarely be our lot.
Страница 293 - And angling, too, that solitary vice, Whatever Izaak Walton sings or says: The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb, in his gullet Should have a hook, and a small trout to pull it.
Страница 318 - Who hath not proved how feebly words essay To fix one spark of Beauty's heavenly ray ? Who doth not feel, until his failing sight Faints into dimness with its own delight, His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess The might — the majesty of Loveliness...