The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: Prisoner of Chillon. Manfred. Lament of Tasso, &cJohn Murray, 1818 |
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Страница 10
... Lake Leman lies by Chillon's walls : A thousand feet in depth below Its massy waters meet and flow ; Thus much the fathom - line was sent From Chillon's snow - white battlement , 3 Which round about the wave enthralls : A double dungeon ...
... Lake Leman lies by Chillon's walls : A thousand feet in depth below Its massy waters meet and flow ; Thus much the fathom - line was sent From Chillon's snow - white battlement , 3 Which round about the wave enthralls : A double dungeon ...
Страница 24
... lake below , And the blue Rhone in fullest flow ; I heard the torrents leap and gush O'er channell❜d rock and broken bush ; I saw the white - wall'd distant town , And whiter sails go skimming down ; And then there was a little isle ...
... lake below , And the blue Rhone in fullest flow ; I heard the torrents leap and gush O'er channell❜d rock and broken bush ; I saw the white - wall'd distant town , And whiter sails go skimming down ; And then there was a little isle ...
Страница 29
... Lake of Beauty ! do we feel , In sweetly gliding o'er thy crystal sea , The wild glow of that not ungentle zeal , Which of the heirs of immortality Is proud , and makes the breath of glory real ! 30 STANZAS TO I. THOUGH the day of my ...
... Lake of Beauty ! do we feel , In sweetly gliding o'er thy crystal sea , The wild glow of that not ungentle zeal , Which of the heirs of immortality Is proud , and makes the breath of glory real ! 30 STANZAS TO I. THOUGH the day of my ...
Страница 38
... lakes , and ocean all stood still , And nothing stirred within their silent depths ; Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea , And their masts fell down piecemeal ; as they dropp'd They slept on the abyss without a surge- The waves were ...
... lakes , and ocean all stood still , And nothing stirred within their silent depths ; Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea , And their masts fell down piecemeal ; as they dropp'd They slept on the abyss without a surge- The waves were ...
Страница 64
... Lake of Geneva . On its left are the entrances of the Rhone , and opposite are the Heights of Melleirie and the range of Alps above Boveret and St. Gingo . Near it , on a hill behind , is a torrent ; below it , washing its walls , the lake ...
... Lake of Geneva . On its left are the entrances of the Rhone , and opposite are the Heights of Melleirie and the range of Alps above Boveret and St. Gingo . Near it , on a hill behind , is a torrent ; below it , washing its walls , the lake ...
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Често срещани думи и фрази
ABBOT Alps answer Arimanes ASTARTE beautiful BEN JONSON beneath bird blood Bonnivard breath brow Cantos castle chain CHAMOIS HUNTER change came o'er clay clouds cold curse darkness death despair destiny doth dread dream dungeon dwell earth Edition eternal Exit MANFRED eyes fatal fear feel Ferrara fetters Gadara Geneve grave grief hath heart heaven her's HERMAN hour immortal LAMENT OF TASSO light live look LORD LORD BYRON MANUEL mind mix'd mortal mountain NEMESIS night nivard o'er the spirit ocean Pausanias pause perish'd Poem PRISONER OF CHILLON qu'il rise SCENE shadow slumber smile solitude soul speak star stood strange sunbow's tears thee thine things THOMAS CAMPBELL thou art thou didst thou dost thoughts thyself torrent torture twas twere Twill voice walls WALTER SCOTT wandering wave WILLIAM GIFFORD wind WITCH words wreck wretched ΜΑΝ Аввот
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Страница 21 - 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.
Страница 2 - To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. 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.
Страница 15 - He faded, and so calm and meek, So softly worn, so sweetly weak, So tearless, yet so tender, kind, And grieved for those he left behind ; With all the while a cheek whose bloom Was as a mockery of the tomb, Whose tints as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray...
Страница 6 - And in each pillar there is a ring, And in each ring there is a chain; That iron is a cankering thing, For in these limbs its teeth remain...
Страница 85 - Though thy slumber may be deep Yet thy spirit shall not sleep; There are shades which will not vanish, There are thoughts thou canst not banish...
Страница 15 - ... as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray — An eye of most transparent light, That almost made the dungeon bright, 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...
Страница 27 - With spiders I had friendship made, And watched them in their sullen trade; Had seen the mice by moonlight play — And why should I feel less than they? We were all inmates of one place, And I, the monarch of each race, Had power to kill; yet, strange to tell! In quiet we had learned to dwell. My very chains and I grew friends, So much a long communion tends To make us what we are: — even I Regained my freedom with a sigh.
Страница 52 - That in the antique oratory shook His bosom in its solitude; and then — As in that hour — a moment o'er his face The tablet of unutterable thoughts Was traced — and then it faded as it came...
Страница 30 - Though the day of my destiny's over, And the star of my fate hath declined, Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could find ; Though thy soul with my grief was acquainted, It shrunk not to share it with me, And the love which my spirit hath painted It never hath found but in thee.
Страница 50 - Boy was sprung to manhood: in the wilds Of fiery climes he made himself a home, And his Soul drank their sunbeams: he was girt With strange and dusky aspects; he was not Himself like what he had been; on the sea And on the shore he was a wanderer; There was a mass of many images Crowded like waves upon me...