The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals, and His Life, 10±Ç |
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Alhama beautiful behold beneath blood Bonnivard bosom breast breath bride brow Château de Chillon cheek Chillon cold Corinth dared dark dead death deep dream dungeon earth eternal Ezzelin fame fate fear feel fell fix'd gazed Genève Giaour GIFFORD glance glory grave grew grief guilt hand hast hath head heard heart heaven hour knew Lara Lara's light living look look'd Lord Byron Lord Holland Madame de Staël Mariamne mind MONODY Moore ne'er never night numbers o'er once Parisina pass'd poem poetry R. B. SHERIDAN rest roll'd says scarce seem'd Sheridan shore Siege of Corinth sigh SIR WALTER SCOTT sleep smile sorrow soul spirit STANZAS steed stone stood tears tender thee thine thing thou art thought thousand turn'd twas voice wall waves wild wither'd words wound youth
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vii ÆäÀÌÁö - They stood aloof, the scars remaining, Like cliffs, which had been rent asunder; A dreary sea now flows between; But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder, Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath been.
75 ÆäÀÌÁö - And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.
274 ÆäÀÌÁö - And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp, and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters...
228 ÆäÀÌÁö - MY hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears: My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's spoil, And mine has been the fate of those To whom the goodly earth and air Are bann'd, and barr'd — forbidden fare...
186 ÆäÀÌÁö - FARE thee well! and if for ever, Still for ever, fare thee well : Even though unforgiving, never 'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel. Would that breast were bared before thee Where thy head so oft hath lain, While that placid sleep came o'er thee Which thou ne'er canst know again : Would that breast, by thee glanced over, Every inmost thought could show ! Then thou wouldst at last discover 'T was not well to spurn it so.
232 ÆäÀÌÁö - A double dungeon wall and wave Have made — and like a living grave, Below the surface of the lake The dark vault lies wherein we lay; We heard it ripple night and day; Sounding o'er our heads it knocked.
241 ÆäÀÌÁö - It might be months, or years, or days, I kept no count, I took no note, I had no hope my eyes to raise, And clear them of their dreary mote; At last men came to set me free...
237 ÆäÀÌÁö - No check — no change — no good — no crime — But silence, and a stirless breath Which neither was of life nor death; A sea of stagnant idleness, Blind, boundless, mute, and motionless!
187 ÆäÀÌÁö - Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not; Love may sink by slow decay, But by sudden wrench, believe not Hearts can thus be torn away: Still thine own its life retaineth, Still must mine, though bleeding, beat; And the undying thought which paineth Is — that we no more may meet.
272 ÆäÀÌÁö - THERE be none of Beauty's daughters With a magic like thee ; And like music on the waters Is thy sweet voice to me...