The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals, and His Life, by Thomas Moore, Esq, Volum 6

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Pàgina 130 - The sword, the banner, and the field, Glory and Greece, around me see! The Spartan, borne upon his shield, Was not more free.
Pàgina 364 - Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, Now rust, disused, and shine no more, My Mary!
Pàgina 129 - My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of love are gone; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone! The fire that on my bosom preys, Is lone as some volcanic isle; No torch is kindled at its blaze — A funeral pile!
Pàgina 130 - Tread those reviving passions down, Unworthy manhood ! — unto thee Indifferent should the smile or frown Of beauty be. If thou regret'st thy youth, why live ? The land of honourable death Is here : — up to the field, and give Away thy breath ! Seek out — less often sought than found — A soldier's grave, for thee the best ; Then look around, and choose thy ground, And take thy rest.
Pàgina 278 - I direct that they, my said trustees and the survivor of them, and the executors and administrators of such survivor...
Pàgina 361 - rose to truth." In my mind, the highest of all poetry is ethical poetry, as the highest of all earthly objects must be moral truth.
Pàgina 281 - Signed, sealed, published and declared by the said Testator as and for his last Will and Testament, in the presence of us, who in his presence, at his request, and in the presence of each other, have subscribed our names as witnesses...
Pàgina 285 - Tis well ! from this day forward we shall know That in ourselves our safety must be sought ; That by our own right hands it must be wrought ; That we must stand unpropped, or be laid low.
Pàgina 370 - William's thundering arm prevail'd. For right hereditary tax'd and fin'd, He stuck to poverty with peace of mind ; And me, the Muses help'd to undergo it ; Convict a papist he, and I a poet. But (thanks to Homer) since I live and thrive, Indebted to no prince or peer alive, Sure I should want the care of ten Monroes,8 If I would scribble rather than repose.
Pàgina 358 - Why do those cliffs of shadowy tint appear More sweet than all the landscape smiling near ?— 'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view, And robes the mountain in its azure hue.

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