The works of lord Byron: with his letters and journals, and his life, by T. Moore, Volume 14

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Página 271 - 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 272 - Yes ! where is he, the Champion and the Child Of all that's great or little, wise or wild ? Whose game was empires and whose stakes were thrones ? Whose table, earth — whose dice were human bones ? Behold the grand result in yon lone isle, And, as thy nature urges, weep or smile.
Página 83 - By tyrannous threats to force you into faith 'Gainst all external sense and inward feeling: Think and endure — and form an inner world In your own bosom — where the outward fails; So shall you nearer be the spiritual Nature, and war triumphant with your own.
Página 75 - There is some soul of goodness in things evil, Would men observingly distil it out, For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers, Which is both healthful, and good husbandry : Besides, they are our outward consciences, And preachers to us all ; admonishing, That we should 'dress us fairly for our end. Thus may we gather honey from the weed, And make a moral of the devil himself.
Página 17 - I never troubled myself with answering any arguments which the opponents in the divinity-schools brought against the articles of the church, nor ever admitted their authority as decisive of a difficulty ; but I used on such occasions to say to them, holding the New Testament in my hand, En sacrum codicem...
Página 18 - ... because man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go about the streets: or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern; and the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit return unto God who gave it.
Página 326 - He who first met the Highlands' swelling blue Will love each peak that shows a kindred hue, Hail in each crag a friend's familiar face, And clasp the mountain in his mind's embrace. Long have I...

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