The Poetical Works of Lord Byron, Volume 2J. Murray, 1873 |
De dentro do livro
Resultados 1-5 de 30
Página 11
... side Seems gather'd from the ocean - tide : Though weary waves are sunk to rest , There's none within his rider's breast ; And though to - morrow's tempest lower , " T is calmer than thy heart , young Giaour ! 14 I know thee not , I ...
... side Seems gather'd from the ocean - tide : Though weary waves are sunk to rest , There's none within his rider's breast ; And though to - morrow's tempest lower , " T is calmer than thy heart , young Giaour ! 14 I know thee not , I ...
Página 15
... side . His roof , that refuge unto men , Is Desolation's hungry den . The guest flies the hall , and the vassal from labour , Since his turban was cleft by the infidel's sabre ! 26 * I hear the sound of coming feet , But not a voice ...
... side . His roof , that refuge unto men , Is Desolation's hungry den . The guest flies the hall , and the vassal from labour , Since his turban was cleft by the infidel's sabre ! 26 * I hear the sound of coming feet , But not a voice ...
Página 19
... side ; The faithless slave that broke her bower , And , worse than faithless , for a Giaour ! * * * The sun's last rays are on the hill , And sparkle in the fountain rill , Whose welcome waters , cool and clear , Draw blessings from the ...
... side ; The faithless slave that broke her bower , And , worse than faithless , for a Giaour ! * * * The sun's last rays are on the hill , And sparkle in the fountain rill , Whose welcome waters , cool and clear , Draw blessings from the ...
Página 20
... side the midway path there lay Small broken crags of granite gray , By time , or mountain lightning , riven From summits clad in mists of heaven ; For where is he that hath beheld The peak of Liakura unveil'd ? * * * * * 99 They reach ...
... side the midway path there lay Small broken crags of granite gray , By time , or mountain lightning , riven From summits clad in mists of heaven ; For where is he that hath beheld The peak of Liakura unveil'd ? * * * * * 99 They reach ...
Página 24
... side ; He drew the token from his vest- Angel of Death ! ' t is Hassan's cloven crest ! His calpac 53 rent - his caftan red- 66 ' Lady , a fearful bride thy son hath wed : Me , not from mercy , did they spare , But this empurpled pledge ...
... side ; He drew the token from his vest- Angel of Death ! ' t is Hassan's cloven crest ! His calpac 53 rent - his caftan red- 66 ' Lady , a fearful bride thy son hath wed : Me , not from mercy , did they spare , But this empurpled pledge ...
Outras edições - Ver todos
The Poetical Works of Lord Byron, Volume 2 George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Visualização completa - 1868 |
The Poetical Works of Lord Byron, Volume 2 George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Visualização completa - 1873 |
The Poetical Works of Lord Byron, Volume 2 George Gordon Byron Baron Byron Visualização completa - 1871 |
Termos e frases comuns
Amaun arms band beauty beneath blood Bonnivard bosom breast breath bride Bride of Abydos brow CANTO Château de Chillon cheek Christian Conrad Corsair courser dare dark dead death deeds deep despair doom dread dream earth fate fear feel fell fix'd foes gazed Giaffir Giaour glance grave grief Gulnare hand hate hath head heard heart heaven Hetman hope hour Houris isle knew land Lara Lara's light limbs line 14 lips lonely look'd Lord Byron Mazeppa ne'er Neuha never night nought numbers o'er once Pacha Parisina pass'd poem PRISONER OF CHILLON rage rest rose round scarce seem'd Selim shore Siege of Corinth sigh silent slave smile soul sound spirit steed stern stood strife tale tears thee thine thou thought Timariot Torquil turn'd voice wave Whate'er wild wind words wound Zuleika
Passagens mais conhecidas
Página 57 - Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime ? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime...
Página 265 - 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.
Página 234 - There is not wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can, Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
Página 269 - PRISONER OF CHILLON." 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...
Página 103 - O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, Survey our empire, and behold our home!
Página 275 - A light broke in upon my brain, — It was the carol of a bird; It ceased, and then it came again, The sweetest song ear ever heard, And mine was thankful till my eyes...
Página 274 - The last, the sole, the dearest link Between me and the eternal brink, Which bound me to my failing race, Was broken in this fatal place.
Página 274 - With all the while a cheek whose bloom Was as a mockery of the tomb, Whose tints as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray...
Página 276 - It seem'd like me to want a mate, But was not half so desolate, And it was come to love me when None lived to love me so again, And cheering from my dungeon's brink, Had brought me back to feel and think. I know not if it late were free, Or broke its cage to perch on mine, But knowing well captivity, Sweet bird ! I could not wish for thine...
Página 137 - Morea's hills the setting sun; not as in northern climes obscurely bright, but one unclouded blaze of living light : o'er the hushed deep the yellow beam he throws, gilds the green wave that trembles as it glows. On old jEgina's rock and Idra's isle the god of gladness sheds his parting smile; o'er his own regions lingering, loves to shine, though there his altars are no more divine.