The Poetical Works of Lord Byron, 2±Ç |
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3 ÆäÀÌÁö
... dazzles where it dwells , Glance o'er this page , nor to my verse deny That
smile for which my breast might vainly sigh ... atonement when he did amiss ,
Had sigh'd to many though he loved but one And that loved one , alas ! could ne'
er be ...
... dazzles where it dwells , Glance o'er this page , nor to my verse deny That
smile for which my breast might vainly sigh ... atonement when he did amiss ,
Had sigh'd to many though he loved but one And that loved one , alas ! could ne'
er be ...
14 ÆäÀÌÁö
The Spanish girl that meets your love Ne'er taunts you with a mock denial , For
every thought is bent to prove Her passion in the hour of trial . When thronging
foemen menace Spain , She dares the deed and shares the danger ; LXXXVII .
The Spanish girl that meets your love Ne'er taunts you with a mock denial , For
every thought is bent to prove Her passion in the hour of trial . When thronging
foemen menace Spain , She dares the deed and shares the danger ; LXXXVII .
19 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 ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen , With the wild flock
...
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 ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen , With the wild flock
...
24 ÆäÀÌÁö
... To the wolf and the vulture he leaves his wild fluck , And wasted far and near
with glaive and brand ; And descends to the plain ... redder , before Nodding at
midnight o'er the calm bay's breast , The sabre is sheathed and the battle is o'er .
... To the wolf and the vulture he leaves his wild fluck , And wasted far and near
with glaive and brand ; And descends to the plain ... redder , before Nodding at
midnight o'er the calm bay's breast , The sabre is sheathed and the battle is o'er .
25 ÆäÀÌÁö
... Or Wahab's rebel brood , who dared divest The prophet's 5 tomb of all its pious
spoil , May wind their path of blood along the West ; But ne'er will freedom seek
this fated soil , But slave succeed to slave through years of endless toil . LXXVIII .
... Or Wahab's rebel brood , who dared divest The prophet's 5 tomb of all its pious
spoil , May wind their path of blood along the West ; But ne'er will freedom seek
this fated soil , But slave succeed to slave through years of endless toil . LXXVIII .
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answer appear arms bear beauty beneath better blood breast breath Cain chief child dare dark dead death deep Doge doubt earth Enter face fair fall fate father fear feel foes give hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour Italy king land late least leave less light lines live look Lord Byron Lucifer means meet mind mortal mountains nature ne'er never night noble o'er once pass passion perhaps poem present rest rise round scarce scene seems seen smile soul sound speak spirit tears tell thee thine things thou thought thousand true turn voice walls waters wave wild Writes young youth
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51 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.
22 ÆäÀÌÁö - And there was mounting in hot haste— the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war — And the deep thunder peal on peal afar ; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the Morning Star ; While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips — 'The foe! They come! they come!' XXVI And wild and high the 'Cameron's Gathering
53 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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...
22 ÆäÀÌÁö - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms, — the day Battle's...
22 ÆäÀÌÁö - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men ; A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell...
28 ÆäÀÌÁö - The sky is changed! - and such a change! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!
22 ÆäÀÌÁö - Cameron's gathering' rose! The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their...
22 ÆäÀÌÁö - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, — alas ! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valour, rolling on the foe And burning with high hope shall moulder cold and low.
34 ÆäÀÌÁö - And even since, and now, fair Italy ! Thou art the garden of the world, the home Of all Art yields, and Nature (') can decree ; Even in thy desert, what is like to thee ? Thy very weeds are beautiful, thy waste ; More rich than other climes' fertility ; Thy wreck a glory, and thy ruin graced With an immaculate charm which cannot be defaced.
22 ÆäÀÌÁö - But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell, And there hath been thy bane; there is a fire And motion of the soul which will not dwell In its own narrow being, but aspire Beyond the fitting medium of desire; And, but once kindled, quenchless evermore, Preys upon high adventure, nor can tire Of aught but rest; a fever at the core, Fatal to him who bears; to all who ever bore.