The Works of Lord Byron, Том 12J. Murray, 1901 |
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Страница 15
... fact is she is spoilt , being a great favourite with every body on account of the fairness of her Skin , which shines among their dusky children like the milky way , but there is no comparison of her situation now , and that under Elise ...
... fact is she is spoilt , being a great favourite with every body on account of the fairness of her Skin , which shines among their dusky children like the milky way , but there is no comparison of her situation now , and that under Elise ...
Страница 28
... fact , and , what is worse , that she did not deny it : but the Italian public are on our side , particularly the women , —and the men also , because they say that he had no business to take the business up now after a year of ...
... fact , and , what is worse , that she did not deny it : but the Italian public are on our side , particularly the women , —and the men also , because they say that he had no business to take the business up now after a year of ...
Страница 50
... fact , a judgment to this effect came yesterday . I am , of course , in an awkward situation enough . I have heard no more of the carabiniers who 1. Byron quotes from La Fontaine's " Le Roi Candaule et le " Maître en Droit . " The last ...
... fact , a judgment to this effect came yesterday . I am , of course , in an awkward situation enough . I have heard no more of the carabiniers who 1. Byron quotes from La Fontaine's " Le Roi Candaule et le " Maître en Droit . " The last ...
Страница 59
... children by her Paramour ; -at least , the notoriety of such a " fact would be attended with the loss of reputation . " — Diary of an Invalid ( ed . 1820 ) , pp . 258-262 . asking Lady O. afterwards , who laid the blame on.
... children by her Paramour ; -at least , the notoriety of such a " fact would be attended with the loss of reputation . " — Diary of an Invalid ( ed . 1820 ) , pp . 258-262 . asking Lady O. afterwards , who laid the blame on.
Страница 65
... fact , such a likeness should always be seen- Why should Queens not be whores ? Every Whore is a QUEAN . This is only an epigram to the ear . I think she will win : I am sure she ought , poor woman . Is it true that absent peers are to ...
... fact , such a likeness should always be seen- Why should Queens not be whores ? Every Whore is a QUEAN . This is only an epigram to the ear . I think she will win : I am sure she ought , poor woman . Is it true that absent peers are to ...
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afterwards Allegra answer April believe Bologna Bowles Bowles's called Canto Carbonari copy Countess Countess Guiccioli damned Dante DEAR death Doge Doge of Venice Don Juan Edgeworth Elliston enclosed England English feel Foscari French friends Galignani Gifford Guiccioli hear heard Hobhouse honour Italian Italy January John Keats John Murray Keats Kinnaird Lady Lady Morgan late least letter lines literary living London Lord Byron Madame Marino Faliero Memoirs Naples Neapolitans never opinion packets passion person Pisa play poem poet poetry Pope Pray present printed probably proofs prose published Queen Ravenna received recollect Richard Belgrave Hoppner Rochdale Rome Sardanapalus Scott Scrope sent Shelley Sheridan speak stanza suppose sure talk tell thing Thomas Moore thought told tragedy translation Venice verses wish woman write written wrote
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Страница 532 - His spear, to equal which the tallest pine Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast Of some great ammiral, were but a wand.
Страница 554 - Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear More sweet than all the landscape smiling near ?— 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue.
Страница 247 - So the struck Eagle, stretched upon the plain, No more through rolling clouds to soar again, Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart, And winged the shaft that quivered in his heart ; Keen were his pangs, but keener far to feel He nursed the pinion which impelled the steel ; While the same plumage that had warmed his nest Drank the last life-drop of his bleeding breast.
Страница 532 - He scarce had ceased when the superior Fiend Was moving toward the shore, his ponderous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast. The broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views At evening, from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, 290 Rivers or mountains in her spotty globe.
Страница 270 - The morning precious: beauty was awake! Why were ye not awake? But ye were dead To things ye knew not of, — were closely wed To musty laws lined out with wretched rule And compass vile: so that ye taught a school Of dolts to smooth, inlay, and clip, and fit, Till, like the certain wands of Jacob's wit, Their verses tallied.
Страница 553 - Through woods and meads, in shade and sun Sometimes swift, sometimes slow, Wave succeeding wave, they go A various journey to the deep, Like human life, to endless sleep ! Thus is Nature's vesture wrought; To instruct our wandering thought; Thus she dresses green and gay, To disperse our cares away.
Страница 548 - Solitude, romantic maid ! Whether by nodding towers you tread ; Or haunt the desert's trackless gloom, Or hover o'er the yawning tomb ; Or climb the Andes' clifted side, Or by the Nile's coy source abide : Or, starting from your half-year's sleep, From Hecla view the thawing deep : Or, at the purple dawn of day, Tadmor's marble wastes survey." observing,
Страница 566 - Looking tranquillity ! It strikes an awe And terror on my aching sight ; the tombs And monumental caves of death look cold, And shoot a chilness to my trembling heart.
Страница 468 - Fame! — if I e'er took delight in thy praises, 'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover She thought that I was not unworthy to love her. 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 164 - In health, in sickness, thus the suppliant prays; Hides from himself his state, and shuns to know, That life protracted is protracted woe. Time hovers o'er, impatient to destroy, And shuts up all the passages of joy: In vain their gifts the bounteous seasons pour, The fruit autumnal, and the vernal...