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Like Scipio, buried by the upbraiding shore.
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto iv. Stanza 87.
Thou wert a beautiful thought, and softly bodied forth.
Stanza 118. Alas! our young affections run to waste, Or water but the desert. Stanza 120.
I see before me the Gladiator lie. stanza 140.
There were his young barbarians all at play,
"While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand;
When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall;
And when Rome falls, — the World." * Stanza 145.
Scion of chiefs and monarchs, where art thou?
0 that the desert were my dwelling-place,
And, hating no one, love but only her! Stanza 177.
There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
I love not Man the less, but Nature more. Stanza 178.
Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean, — roll!
1 Literally the exclamation of the pilgrims in the eighth century.
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan,
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 179.
Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow, —
Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form
And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy
And trusted to thy billows far and near,
And laid my hand upon thy mane, — as I do here.1
Stanza 184. And what is writ, is writ, — Would it were worthier! stanza 185.
Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been, —
A sound which makes us linger; yet—farewell!
Stanza 186. Hands promiscuously applied, Round the slight waist, or down the glowing side.
The Waltz. He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress, Before Decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers.
The Giaour. Line 68.
1 And thou vast ocean, on whose awful face Time's iron feet can print no ruin-trace.
Robert Montgomery, The Omnipresence of the Deity. * He laid his hand upon "the ocean's mane," And played familiar with his hoary locks.
Pollok, The Course of Time. Book iv. Line 389. Such is the aspect of this shore;
T is Greece, but living Greece no more!
So coldly sweet, so deadly fair,
We start, for soul is wanting there. The Giaour. Line 90.
Shrine of the mighty! can it be
For freedom's battle, once begun,
And lovelier things have mercy shown
The keenest pangs the wretched find
The leafless desert of the mind,
Better to sink beneath the shock
The cold in clime are cold in blood,
Their love can scarce deserve the name.
I die, — but first I have possessed,
She was a form of life and light,
A spark of that immortal fire
To lift from earth our low desire.
Line 969. Line 1099. Line 1114.
Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle
Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,
The Bride of Ahydot. Canto i. Stanza 1.
Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine, And all, save the spirit of man, is divine? Ibid.
Who hath not proved how feebly words essay
To fix one spark of beauty's heavenly ray?
Who doth not feel, until his failing sight
Faints into dimness with its own delight,
His changing cheek, his sinking heart, confess
The might — the majesty of loveliness ? Stanza o.
The light of love, the purity of grace,
The mind, the music breathing from her face,'
The heart whose softness harmonized the whole,
And oh! that eye was in itself a Soul! 1hid.
The blind old man of Seio's roeky isle. Canto ii. Stanza 2.
Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life!
The evening beam that smiles the clouds away,
And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray! Stanza 20.
He makes a solitude, and calls it — peaee! * 1hid.
Hark! to the hurried question of Despair: "Where is my child ?"—an Eeho answers, "Where ?" *
Stanza 27. i Know'st thou the land where the lemon-trees bloom, Where the gold orange glows in the deep thicket's gloom, Where a wind ever soft from the blue heaven blows, And the groves are of laurel, and myrtle, and rose?
Goethe, Wilhelm Meister. s Compare Lovelaee. Page 172. Also Browne's Rtligio Medici, Part ii. See. 9. Page 177.
z Solitudinem faeiunt, paeem appellant. — Tacitus, Ayrieola, 30. 4 I came to the place of my birth, and cried, "The friends of my
O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,
The Corsair. Canto i. Stanza 1.
O, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried. Ibid
She walks the waters like a thing of life,
And seems to dare the elements to strife. Stanza 3.
The power of Thought, — the magic of the Mind!
Stanza 8. The many still must labour for the one. Ibid.
There was a laughing devil in his sneer. Stanza 9.
Hope withering fled, and Mercy sighed farewell! Ibid.
Farewell! For in that word, — that fatal word, — howe'er We promise, hope, believe,—there breathes despair.
No words suffice the secret soul to show,
For truth denies all eloquence to woe. Canto iii. Stanza 22.
He left a Corsair's name to other times,
Linked with one virtue and a thousand crimes.1
youth, where are they?" And an Echo answered, "Where are they?" — From an Arabic MS.
1 To all nations their empire will he dreadful; because their ships will sail wherever billows roll or winds can wait them. — Dalrymple's Memoirs, iii. 152.
1 Hannibal, as he had mighty virtues, so had he many vices; unam virtutem miile ritia comitantur. As Machiavel said of Cosmo de Medici, he had two distinct persons in him. — Burton, Anatomy of Melancholy. Democritus to the Reader. .