The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals,John Murray, Albemarles Street., 1834 |
Между кориците на книгата
Резултати 1 - 5 от 54.
Страница 10
... or to the sweetness of her temper , during the short period of our intimacy . She looked as if she had been made out of a rainbow - all beauty and peace . " — Byron's Diary , 1821 . TO E- ( 1 ) LET Folly smile , to 10 HOURS OF IDLENESS .
... or to the sweetness of her temper , during the short period of our intimacy . She looked as if she had been made out of a rainbow - all beauty and peace . " — Byron's Diary , 1821 . TO E- ( 1 ) LET Folly smile , to 10 HOURS OF IDLENESS .
Страница 11
... smile , to view the names Of thee and me in friendship twined ; Yet Virtue will have greater claims To love , than rank with vice combined . And though unequal is thy fate , Since title deck'd my higher birth ! Yet envy not this gaudy ...
... smile , to view the names Of thee and me in friendship twined ; Yet Virtue will have greater claims To love , than rank with vice combined . And though unequal is thy fate , Since title deck'd my higher birth ! Yet envy not this gaudy ...
Страница 15
... smiling garden , the hemlock and thistle Have chok'd up the rose which late bloom'd in the way . ( 1 ) Of the sincerity of this youthful aspiration , the poet has left repeated proofs . By his will , drawn up in 1811 , he directed ...
... smiling garden , the hemlock and thistle Have chok'd up the rose which late bloom'd in the way . ( 1 ) Of the sincerity of this youthful aspiration , the poet has left repeated proofs . By his will , drawn up in 1811 , he directed ...
Страница 19
... smile at their believing , And they shall weep at your deceiving . " ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING , ADDRESSED TO MISS Dear , simple girl , those flattering arts , From which thou'dst guard frail female hearts , Exist but in imagination ...
... smile at their believing , And they shall weep at your deceiving . " ANSWER TO THE FOREGOING , ADDRESSED TO MISS Dear , simple girl , those flattering arts , From which thou'dst guard frail female hearts , Exist but in imagination ...
Страница 24
... smile . FROM ANACREON . [ Θελω λεγειν Ατρείδας , κ . τ . λ . ] I WISH to tune my quivering lyre To deeds of fame and notes of fire ; To echo , from its rising swell , How heroes fought and nations fell , When Atreus ' sons advanced to ...
... smile . FROM ANACREON . [ Θελω λεγειν Ατρείδας , κ . τ . λ . ] I WISH to tune my quivering lyre To deeds of fame and notes of fire ; To echo , from its rising swell , How heroes fought and nations fell , When Atreus ' sons advanced to ...
Други издания - Преглед на всички
Често срещани думи и фрази
ANACREON bard beauty beneath blast bless blest bliss bosom breast Calmar Capel Lofft CATULLUS dare dark dead dear death delight dream Dunciad e'en Edinburgh Review edition expire eyes fair fame fate father fear feel flame foes folly fond forget friendship genius glory glow grave Harrow heart heaven heroes honour hope hour kiss lady lines live Lochlin Lord Byron Lord Carlisle Lord Henry Petty love's last adieu lyre Mathon mind Moore muse ne'er never Newstead Newstead Abbey night Nisus and Euryalus noble numbers o'er once Orla Oscar passion perchance poem poet praise pride Probus published remembrance rhyme rise roll satire scene shade sigh sire sleep smile song soothe soul stanzas strain sweet tears thee thine thou throng tomb translation truth twill verse wave weep wings wonted written young youth
Популярни откъси
Страница 294 - By nature vile, ennobled but by name, Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame. Ye ! who perchance behold this simple urn, Pass on — it honours none you wish to mourn : To mark a friend's remains these stones arise ; I never knew but one, — and here he lies.
Страница 239 - Who, both by precept and example, shows That prose is verse, and verse is merely prose...
Страница 239 - Next comes the dull disciple of thy school, That mild apostate from poetic rule, The simple Wordsworth, framer of a lay As soft as evening in his favourite May, Who warns his friend 'to shake off toil and trouble, And quit his books, for fear of growing double...
Страница 113 - Years have roll'd on, Loch na Garr, since I left you, Years must elapse ere I tread you again : Nature of verdure and flow'rs has bereft you, Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain. England ! thy beauties are tame and domestic To one who has roved...
Страница 112 - I strode through the pine-covered glade. I sought not my home till the day's dying glory Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star ; For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story, Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch ua Garr.
Страница 171 - Our union would have healed feuds in which blood had been shed by our fathers, it would have joined lands broad and rich, it would have joined at least one heart, and two persons not ill matched in years (she is two years my elder), and — and — and — what has been the result?
Страница 188 - THE poesy of this young lord belongs to the class which neither gods nor men are said to permit. Indeed, we do not recollect to have seen a quantity of verse with so few deviations in either direction from that exact standard. His effusions are spread over a dead flat, and can no more get above or below the level, than if they were so much stagnant water.
Страница 211 - These lips are mute, these eyes are dry ; But in my breast and in my brain, Awake the pangs that pass not by, The thought that ne'er shall sleep again.
Страница 240 - Thus, when he tells the tale of Betty Foy, The idiot mother of 'an idiot boy'; A moon-struck, silly lad, who lost his way, And, like his bard, confounded night with day; So close on each pathetic part he dwells, And each adventure so sublimely tells, That all who view the 'idiot in his glory' Conceive the bard the hero of the story.
Страница 240 - idiot in his glory' Conceive the bard the hero of the story. Shall gentle Coleridge pass unnoticed here, To turgid ode and tumid stanza dear? Though themes of innocence amuse him best, Yet still obscurity's a welcome guest. If Inspiration should her aid refuse To him who takes a pixy for a muse, Yet none in lofty numbers can surpass The bard who soars to elegise an ass.