The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals and His Life, Volum 11

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Pàgina 67 - The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains. - Beautiful! I linger yet with Nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face ; Than that of man; and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness, I learn'd the language of another world.
Pàgina 68 - twere anew, the gaps of centuries ; Leaving that beautiful which still was so, And making that which was not, till the place Became religion, and the heart ran o'er With silent worship of the great of old, — The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule Our spirits from their urns.
Pàgina 31 - It is not noon— the Sunbow's rays still arch The torrent with the many hues of heaven, And roll the sheeted silver's waving column O'er the crag's headlong perpendicular, And fling its lines of foaming light along, And to and fro, like the pale courser's tail, The Giant steed, to be bestrode by Death, As told in the Apocalypse.
Pàgina 28 - tis blood — my blood! the pure warm stream Which ran in the veins of my fathers, and in ours When we were in our youth, and had one heart, And loved each other as we should not love, And this was shed: but still it rises up, Colouring the clouds, that shut me out from heaven, Where thou art not — and I shall never be.
Pàgina 68 - Midst the chief relics of almighty Rome ; The trees which grew along the broken arches Waved dark in the blue midnight, and the stars Shone through the rents of ruin ; from afar The watch-dog bayed beyond the Tiber ; and More near from out the Caesars...
Pàgina 35 - My joy was in the Wilderness, to breathe The difficult air of the iced mountain's top, Where the birds dare not build, nor insect's wing Flit o'er the herbless granite...
Pàgina 37 - She had the same lone thoughts and wanderings, The quest of hidden knowledge, and a mind To comprehend the universe : nor these Alone, but with them gentler powers than mine, Pity, and smiles, and tears — which I had not; And tenderness — but that I had for her; Humility — and that I never had. Her faults were mine — her virtues were her own — I loved her, and destroy'd her ! Witch.
Pàgina 61 - This should have been a noble creature: he Hath all the energy which would have made A goodly frame of glorious elements, Had they been wisely mingled; as it is, It is an awful chaos— Light and Darkness— And mind and dust— and passions and pure thoughts Mixed, and contending without end or order,— All dormant or destructive.
Pàgina 14 - The Glacier's cold and restless mass Moves onward day by day ; But I am he who bids it pass, Or with its ice delay.
Pàgina 36 - She was like me in lineaments — her eyes, Her hair, her features, all, to the very tone Even of her voice, they said were like to mine...

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