Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals, and His Life, Volume 14

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Página 358 - Tis time this heart should be unmoved, Since others it hath ceased to move: Yet, though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love! 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!
Página 22 - My father could not keep his place in Eden. What had / done in this ? — I was unborn : I sought not to be born ; nor love the state To which that birth has brought me. Why did he Yield to the serpent and the woman ? or, Yielding, why suffer ? What was there in this...
Página 266 - For ever tomb'd beneath the stone, Where — taming thought to human pride ! — The mighty chiefs sleep side by side. Drop upon Fox's grave the tear, 'Twill trickle to his rival's bier ; O'er PiTT'S the mournful requiem sound, And Fox's shall the notes rebound.
Página 5 - Cain instead, on purpose to avoid shocking any feelings on the subject, by falling short of, what all uninspired men must fall short in, viz., giving an adequate notion of the effect of the presence of Jehovah. The old Mysteries introduced him liberally enough, and all this is avoided in the new one.
Página 5 - Evil, be thou my good,' are from that very poem, from the mouth of Satan ; and is there any thing more in that of Lucifer in the Mystery? ' Cain' is nothing more than a drama, not a piece of argument. If Lucifer and Cain speak as the first murderer and the first rebel may be supposed to speak...
Página 359 - No torch is kindled at its blaze A funeral pile. The hope, the fear, the jealous care, The exalted portion of the pain And power of love, I cannot share, But wear the chain. But 'tis not thus - and 'tis not here Such thoughts should shake my soul, nor now, Where glory decks the hero's bier, Or binds his brow. The sword, the banner, and the field, Glory and Greece, around me see ! The Spartan, borne upon his shield, Was not more free.
Página 359 - Awake ! (Not Greece, — she is awake !) Awake my spirit ! think through whom Thy life-blood tracks its parent lake, And then strike home ! Tread those reviving passions down, Unworthy manhood ! unto thee, Indifferent should the smile or frown Of beauty be.
Página 359 - 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.
Página 9 - Byron to prefix my name to the very grand and tremendous drama of * Cain.' I may be partial to it, and you will allow I have cause ; but I do not know that his Muse has ever taken so lofty a flight amid her former soarings.

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