The Beauties of Byron,: Consisting of Selections from His WorksT. Davison, 1824 - 212ÆäÀÌÁö |
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7 ÆäÀÌÁö
... eternal glory - which , if made By human hands , is not of human thought ; And Time himself hath hallow'd it , nor laid One ringlet in the dust - nor hath it caught A tinge of years , but breathes the flame with which ' twas wrought ...
... eternal glory - which , if made By human hands , is not of human thought ; And Time himself hath hallow'd it , nor laid One ringlet in the dust - nor hath it caught A tinge of years , but breathes the flame with which ' twas wrought ...
8 ÆäÀÌÁö
... sphere ! Whatever star contain thy glory ; In the eternal depths of heaven Albeit thou watchest with the 66 seven , * The archangels , said to be seven in number . Though through space infinite and hoary Before thy bright wings 8 BYRON .
... sphere ! Whatever star contain thy glory ; In the eternal depths of heaven Albeit thou watchest with the 66 seven , * The archangels , said to be seven in number . Though through space infinite and hoary Before thy bright wings 8 BYRON .
13 ÆäÀÌÁö
... Eternal name . Hark ! through All sounds it pierceth , " Allah ! Allah ! Hu ! ¡± A SCENE AFTER A BATTLE . Upon a taken bastion where there lay Thousands of slaughtered men , a yet warm group Of murdered women , who had found their way To ...
... Eternal name . Hark ! through All sounds it pierceth , " Allah ! Allah ! Hu ! ¡± A SCENE AFTER A BATTLE . Upon a taken bastion where there lay Thousands of slaughtered men , a yet warm group Of murdered women , who had found their way To ...
28 ÆäÀÌÁö
... Eternal shadows ! First flowers of the bloody meadows Which encompass Rome , the mother Of a people without brother ! Will you sleep when nations ' quarrels Plough the root up of your laurels ? Ye who wept o'er Carthage burning , Weep ...
... Eternal shadows ! First flowers of the bloody meadows Which encompass Rome , the mother Of a people without brother ! Will you sleep when nations ' quarrels Plough the root up of your laurels ? Ye who wept o'er Carthage burning , Weep ...
29 ÆäÀÌÁö
... eternal City ! Rouse thee ! Rather give the torch With thy own hand to thy porch , Than behold such hosts pollute Your worst dwelling with their foot . Ah ! behold yon bleeding Spectre ! Ilion's children find no Hector ; Priam's ...
... eternal City ! Rouse thee ! Rather give the torch With thy own hand to thy porch , Than behold such hosts pollute Your worst dwelling with their foot . Ah ! behold yon bleeding Spectre ! Ilion's children find no Hector ; Priam's ...
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arms art thou aught Ave Maria beam beauty behold beneath blest blood blue bosom breast breath brow capital punishments Carthage charm cheek Clarens clouds dark dead death deep dread dream e'er eagle passes earth Egeria eternal face fair fear feel flowers gaze gentle GIAOUR glance glow gondolier grave grief hand hath heart heaven hope hour human clay JUNGFRAU Kaled knew light lips living lone look look'd mortal mountains Myrrha ne'er never night o'er once pale passion pause pride rill Rome rose round Samian wine scarce seem'd Seraph shine shone shore sigh sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit stamp'd stars stood sweet tears tender thee thine things thou art thought trembling twas twill waters wave weep wert Whate'er wild wind wing wither'd youth Zuleika
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66 ÆäÀÌÁö - You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet, Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone ! Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one...
52 ÆäÀÌÁö - Could I embody and unbosom now That which is most within me, — could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings, strong or weak, All that I would have sought, and all I seek, Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe — into one word, And that one word were Lightning, I would speak; But as it is, I live and die unheard, With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword.
66 ÆäÀÌÁö - Must we but blush? Our fathers bled. Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three To make a new Thermopylae ! What, silent still? and silent all? Ah! no — the voices of the dead Sound like a distant torrent's fall, And answer, "Let one living head, But one arise — we come, we come!
148 ÆäÀÌÁö - O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, Survey our empire, and behold our home!
146 ÆäÀÌÁö - Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime — The image of Eternity — the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
66 ÆäÀÌÁö - On Suli's rock and Parga's shore Exists the remnant of a line Such as the Doric mothers bore ; And there, perhaps, some seed is sown, The Heraclcidan blood might own.
117 ÆäÀÌÁö - The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains. — Beautiful! I linger yet with Nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man ; and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness, I learn'd the language of another world.
63 ÆäÀÌÁö - Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, Along Morea's hills the setting sun: Not, as in northern climes, obscurely bright, But one unclouded blaze of living light!
150 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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...
164 ÆäÀÌÁö - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been...