The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals, and His Life

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Страница 189 - THE world is a bundle of hay, Mankind are the asses who pull; Each tugs it a different way, And the greatest of all is John Bull.
Страница 105 - Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn." ["There scattered oft, the earliest of the year, By hands unseen, are showers of violets found ; The redbreast loves to build and warble there, And little footsteps lightly print the ground.
Страница 326 - Church : there is a spot in the Churchyard, near the footpath, on the brow of the hill looking towards Windsor, and a tomb under a large tree (bearing the name of Peachie, or Peachey), where I used to sit for hours and hours when a boy : this was my favourite spot...
Страница 280 - Delamartine ; but here is the sublime, my Lord; for this intercession was offered, on your account, to the supreme Source of happiness. It sprang from a faith more confirmed than that of the French poet ; and from a charity which, in combination with faith, showed its power unimpaired amidst the languors and pains of approaching dissolution. I will hope that a prayer, which, I am sure, was deeply sincere, may not be always unavailing. " It would add nothing, my Lord, to the fame with which your genius...
Страница 51 - And if I laugh at any mortal thing, 'Tis that I may not weep...
Страница 22 - 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. Easy was the task: A thousand handicraftsmen wore the mask Of Poesy.
Страница 298 - Drummond's publishers have been allowed to rest in peace for seventy years, are you to be singled out for a work of fiction, not of history or argument? There must be something at the bottom of this — some private enemy of your own : it is otherwise incredible.
Страница 9 - ... acquiesce in the truth of this remark ; but the world had done me the honour to begin the war ; and, assuredly, if peace is only to be obtained by courting and paying tribute to it, I am not qualified to obtain its countenance. I thought, in the words of Campbell, " ' Then wed thee to an exil'd lot, And if the world hath loved thee not, Its absence may be borne.
Страница 27 - When a man hath no freedom to fight for at home, Let him combat for that of his neighbours ; Let him think of the glories of Greece and of Rome, And get knock'd on the head for his labours.
Страница 344 - ... and regular interment. You can have no idea what an extraordinary effect such a funeral pile has, on a desolate shore, with mountains in the back-ground and the sea before, and the singular appearance the salt and frankincense gave to the flame. All of Shelley was consumed, except his heart, which would not take the flame, and is now preserved in spirits of wine.

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