The poetical works of lord Byron, ed. with a critical mem. by W. M. RossettiWard Lock, 1880 |
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10 ÆäÀÌÁö
... fall . Yet what avails the sanguine poet's hope , To conquer ages , and with time to cope ? New eras spread their wings , new nations rise , And other victors fill the applauding skies ; A few brief generations fleet along , * The ...
... fall . Yet what avails the sanguine poet's hope , To conquer ages , and with time to cope ? New eras spread their wings , new nations rise , And other victors fill the applauding skies ; A few brief generations fleet along , * The ...
14 ÆäÀÌÁö
... fall , Swell the young heart with visionary charms , And bid it antedate the joys of arms . But know , a lesson you may yet be taught , With death alone are laurels cheaply bought : Not in the conflict Havoc seeks delight , His day of ...
... fall , Swell the young heart with visionary charms , And bid it antedate the joys of arms . But know , a lesson you may yet be taught , With death alone are laurels cheaply bought : Not in the conflict Havoc seeks delight , His day of ...
17 ÆäÀÌÁö
... fall , Yet strength was pillar'd in each massy aisle . Monastic dome ! condemn'd to uses vile ! Where Superstition once had made her den , Now Paphian girls were known to sing and smile ; And monks might deem their time was come agen ...
... fall , Yet strength was pillar'd in each massy aisle . Monastic dome ! condemn'd to uses vile ! Where Superstition once had made her den , Now Paphian girls were known to sing and smile ; And monks might deem their time was come agen ...
21 ÆäÀÌÁö
... fall where other chieftains lead , Thy name shall circle round the gaping throng , And shine in worthless lays , the theme of transient song . XLIV . Enough of Battle's minions ! let them play Their game of lives , and barter breath for ...
... fall where other chieftains lead , Thy name shall circle round the gaping throng , And shine in worthless lays , the theme of transient song . XLIV . Enough of Battle's minions ! let them play Their game of lives , and barter breath for ...
22 ÆäÀÌÁö
... fall - the young , the proud , the brave- To swell one bloated chief's unwholesome reign ? No step between submission and a grave ? The rise of rapine and the fall of Spain ? And doth the power that man adores ordain Their doom , nor ...
... fall - the young , the proud , the brave- To swell one bloated chief's unwholesome reign ? No step between submission and a grave ? The rise of rapine and the fall of Spain ? And doth the power that man adores ordain Their doom , nor ...
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Adah Anah art thou aught beauty behold beneath blood bosom breast breath brow C©¡s Cain call'd Calmar coursers dare dark dead death deep Doge doth dread dream e'er earth eyes fair fame father fear feel gaze Giaour glory grave Greece hand hath hear heard heart heaven honour hope hour Iden Juan king knew Lady leave less Lioni live look look'd lord Lucifer Michel Steno mortal Myrrha ne'er never night nought o'er once PANIA pass'd passion Rome round SARDANAPALUS satraps scarce scene seem'd shore Sieg Siegendorf sigh sire slave sleep smile soul spirit stars Stral strange Suwarrow sweet sword tears thee thine things thou art thought turn'd twas twill unto voice wave whate'er wild words young youth
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38 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 ! " And wild and high the "Cameron's gathering
134 ÆäÀÌÁö - To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar — for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard ! — May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
38 ÆäÀÌÁö - No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet But hark! - that heavy sound breaks in once more, As if the clouds its echo would repeat; And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! Arm! Arm! it is - it is - the cannon's opening roar!
555 ÆäÀÌÁö - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
555 ÆäÀÌÁö - And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail : And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.
403 ÆäÀÌÁö - Phoebus sprung. Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set. The Scian and the Teian Muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute Have found the fame your shores refuse. Their place of birth alone is mute To sounds which echo further west Than your sires
64 ÆäÀÌÁö - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll [ Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; — upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed...
64 ÆäÀÌÁö - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar. I love not man the less, but Nature more...
64 ÆäÀÌÁö - The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee and arbiter of war,— These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride or spoils of Trafalgar.
403 ÆäÀÌÁö - Tis something, in the dearth of fame, Though link'd among a fetter'd race, To feel at least a patriot's shame, Even as I sing, suffuse my face; For what is left the poet here? For Greeks a blush - for Greece a tear.