Byrons Beziehungen zu seinen Lehrern und Schulkameraden und deren Einfluss auf sein literarische TätigkeitB. Zechel, 1903 - 104 страници |
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Страница 9
... Byron zuweilen nicht genügend vorbereitet war und dass er sich dann in der ... schrieb , mit der Hilfe eines Gradus ad Parnassum " lateinische Verse Non ... Byron fügt jedoch hinzu : ,, However , I wrote much better then than I have ever ...
... Byron zuweilen nicht genügend vorbereitet war und dass er sich dann in der ... schrieb , mit der Hilfe eines Gradus ad Parnassum " lateinische Verse Non ... Byron fügt jedoch hinzu : ,, However , I wrote much better then than I have ever ...
Страница 12
... schrieb er , I shall be called , or rather branded with the name of a dunce , which you know I could never bear ... Byron fortwährend unter Lavenders Quälereien litt " ) , war kaum an wirklichen Fortschritt zu denken . Im August 1799 ging er ...
... schrieb er , I shall be called , or rather branded with the name of a dunce , which you know I could never bear ... Byron fortwährend unter Lavenders Quälereien litt " ) , war kaum an wirklichen Fortschritt zu denken . Im August 1799 ging er ...
Страница 14
... Byron schrieb diese Worte im Jahre 18211 ) , sechszehn Jahre nachdem er die Schule verlassen hatte , und es gefiel ihm zu behaupten , dass er während der Schulzeit nur wenig studiert hätte , und dass er seine hervorragende Stelle in der ...
... Byron schrieb diese Worte im Jahre 18211 ) , sechszehn Jahre nachdem er die Schule verlassen hatte , und es gefiel ihm zu behaupten , dass er während der Schulzeit nur wenig studiert hätte , und dass er seine hervorragende Stelle in der ...
Страница 16
... Byron in Harrow befriedigende Fortschritte gemacht und seinen Platz unter den besten Schülern behauptet hat . Wenn ... schrieb Byron Hints from Horace " , was ohne ziemlich eifriges Studium des lateinischen Originals und eine gewisse ...
... Byron in Harrow befriedigende Fortschritte gemacht und seinen Platz unter den besten Schülern behauptet hat . Wenn ... schrieb Byron Hints from Horace " , was ohne ziemlich eifriges Studium des lateinischen Originals und eine gewisse ...
Страница 20
... Byron einen „ Blackguard " zu nennen , weil er in der Kirche mit seinem Nachbar gesprochen hatte . Byron schrieb ent- rüstet darüber an seine Mutter , dass er nicht in Harrow bleiben wollte , wenn solche Ausdrücke angewandt würden ...
... Byron einen „ Blackguard " zu nennen , weil er in der Kirche mit seinem Nachbar gesprochen hatte . Byron schrieb ent- rüstet darüber an seine Mutter , dass er nicht in Harrow bleiben wollte , wenn solche Ausdrücke angewandt würden ...
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Често срещани думи и фрази
Aberdeen Ackermann April Ausdruck Bankes Bathe bekanntlich Bemerkung Besuch Beweis blieb Boutell Brief Butler Byron schrieb Byron spricht Byron's Byrons Beziehungen Change of Masters Chaworth Childe Harold Childish Recollections Clare Claridge Coleridge Conversations Cricket Dallas dear death Delawarr Dorset Drury's Elze England englischen erst Freunde Freundschaft friend friendship Gedicht George Russell geschrieben Glennie Gordon Hargreaves Hanson Harness Harrow Henry Drury Herzog Herzog von Devonshire Hours of Idleness Hunt Jahre Jeffreason John jünger als Byron Kameraden Klasse know konnte Lehrer Letters lich Life London Long Lord Byron Lord Clare loved Mary Chaworth Medwin Monitor Moore Murray Mutter name never Newstead Pairie Peel Peerage of England Poems on Various Pomposus Probus Procter read Robert Peel sagt Byron School schoolboy schoolfellows schreibt schrieb Byron Schule Schulfreunde Schulkameraden Schulzeit Sohn Strophe Tattersall Taws tears Various Occasions Verse Versöhnung Wappen Wildman Wingfield Works of Lord Worte years Zeilen
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Страница 92 - Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story ; The days of our youth are the days of our glory ; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.
Страница 92 - ... This meeting annihilated for a moment all the years between the present time and the days of Harrow. It was a new and inexplicable feeling, like rising from the grave, to me. Clare too was much agitated — more in appearance than was myself; for I could feel his heart beat to his fingers' ends, unless, indeed, it was the pulse of my own which made me think so.
Страница 87 - When least we deem of such, calls up to view The spectres whom no exorcism can bind, The cold — the changed — perchance the dead — anew, * . The mourn'd, the loved, the lost— too many!— yet how few!
Страница 83 - THERE'S not a joy the world can give like that it takes away, When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's dull decay ; 'Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past.
Страница 84 - Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruined turret wreath, All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath. Oh could I feel as I have felt, — or be what I have been, Or weep as I could once have wept, o'er many a vanished scene; As springs, in deserts found, seem sweet, all brackish though they be, So, midst the withered waste of life, those tears would flow to me.
Страница 84 - Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down ; It cannot feel for others...
Страница 85 - I know not what hath sear'd mine eye: The tears refuse to start; But every drop its lids deny Falls dreary on my heart. Yes — deep and heavy, one by one, They sink, and turn to care; As cavern'd waters wear the stone, Yet, dropping, harden there.
Страница 94 - I feel any thing that deserves the name. All my others are men-of-the-world friendships. I did not even feel it for Shelley, however much I admired and esteemed him, so that you see not even vanity could bribe me into it, for, of all men, Shelley thought highest of my...
Страница 93 - There chiefly I sought thee, there only I found thee ; Her glance was the best of the rays that surround thee; When it sparkled o'er aught that was bright in my story, I knew it was love, and I felt it was glory.
Страница 49 - As fills a father's eyes with light; And pleasures flow in so thick and fast Upon his heart, that he at last Must needs express his love's excess With words of unmeant bitterness. Perhaps 'tis pretty to force together Thoughts so all unlike each other; To mutter and mock a broken charm, To dally with wrong that does no harm. Perhaps 'tis tender too and pretty At each wild word to feel within A sweet recoil of love and pity.