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The poetical works of lord Byron, ed. with a critical mem. by W. M. Rossetti
George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.)
Visualitzaciķ completa - 1881
arms bear beauty beneath better blood breast breath Cain chief dare dark dead death deep Doge doubt earth eyes face fair fall fame father fear feel fire gaze give grave hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour Italy Juan king knew Lady land late least leave less light live look lord Lucifer means meet mind mortal nature ne'er never night o'er once pass past perhaps present rest rise round scarce scene seen slave sleep smile soul sound speak spirit strange tears tell thee thine things thou thought thousand true truth turn twas voice walls waters wave wind young youth
Pāgina 42 - 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
Pāgina 134 - 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.
Pāgina 42 - 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!
Pāgina 551 - 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.
Pāgina 551 - 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.
Pāgina 401 - 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
Pāgina 64 - 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...
Pāgina 64 - 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...
Pāgina 64 - 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.