Childe Harold's pilgrimage, ed. by W. Hiley |
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... . 2 Losel . ] See Glossary . 3 The poet was now twenty - four years of age . 4 An allusion to his boyish love - Mary Chaworth . See Byron's Dream , ' ' Tis said , at times the sullen tear would C3 Childe Harold's Pilgrimage .
... . 2 Losel . ] See Glossary . 3 The poet was now twenty - four years of age . 4 An allusion to his boyish love - Mary Chaworth . See Byron's Dream , ' ' Tis said , at times the sullen tear would C3 Childe Harold's Pilgrimage .
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... tear would start , But Pride congealed the drop within his ee : Apart he stalked in joyless reverie , And from his native land resolved to go , And visit scorching climes beyond the sea : 1 With pleasure drugged , he almost longed for ...
... tear would start , But Pride congealed the drop within his ee : Apart he stalked in joyless reverie , And from his native land resolved to go , And visit scorching climes beyond the sea : 1 With pleasure drugged , he almost longed for ...
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... tear - drop from thine eye ; Our ship is swift and strong : Our fleetest falcon scarce can fly More merrily along . ' 4 ' Let winds be shrill , let waves roll high , I fear not wave nor wind : Yet marvel not , Sir Childe , that I Am ...
... tear - drop from thine eye ; Our ship is swift and strong : Our fleetest falcon scarce can fly More merrily along . ' 4 ' Let winds be shrill , let waves roll high , I fear not wave nor wind : Yet marvel not , Sir Childe , that I Am ...
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... tears become thine eye ; If I thy guileless bosom had , Mine own would not be dry . 6 ' Come hither , hither , my staunch yeoman , Why dost thou look so pale ? Or dost thou dread a French foeman ? Or shiver at the gale ? ' — ' Deem'st ...
... tears become thine eye ; If I thy guileless bosom had , Mine own would not be dry . 6 ' Come hither , hither , my staunch yeoman , Why dost thou look so pale ? Or dost thou dread a French foeman ? Or shiver at the gale ? ' — ' Deem'st ...
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... tear . 9 And now I'm in the world alone , Upon the wide , wide sea : But why should I for others groan , When none will sigh for me ? Perchance my dog will whine in vain , Till fed by stranger hands ; But long ere I come back again He'd ...
... tear . 9 And now I'm in the world alone , Upon the wide , wide sea : But why should I for others groan , When none will sigh for me ? Perchance my dog will whine in vain , Till fed by stranger hands ; But long ere I come back again He'd ...
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Common terms and phrases
Age of Bronze ALEXANDER BAIN Alps ancient ANCIENT ROME Arqua Athens Bards beauty behold beneath blood bosom breast breath brow Byron Cæsar Canto Childe Harold cloth Coloured Conf Crown 8vo Dante dark death deemed deep DICTIONARY doth dream dust dwell earth English Epirus Essays fair fame feel foes Frederick Barbarossa French gaze Giaour Glory Glossary glow Greece Greek hath heart Heaven History Idlesse Illustrations immortal JOHN STUART MILL JOHN TYNDALL land Lord M.A. late maid Maps Medium 8vo mind mortal mountains Napoleon ne'er o'er Plates poem poet Post 8vo R. A. PROCTOR revised rock Roman Rome ruin scene shore shrine sigh smile song soul Square crown 8vo star STEPPING-STONE tears Temple thee thine things Third Edition thou thought throne tomb Translated Venice vols waves wild wind Woodcuts youth
Popular passages
Page 162 - 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.
Page 98 - And this is in the night: — Most glorious night! Thou wert not sent for slumber! let me be A sharer in thy fierce and far delight, — A portion of the tempest and of thee!
Page 96 - Clear, placid Leman ! thy contrasted lake, With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake , Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction ; once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
Page 74 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men ; A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell...
Page 150 - He heard it, but he heeded not - his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away He reck'd not of the life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother - he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday All this rush'd with his blood - Shall he expire And unavenged?
Page 99 - Sky, mountains, river, winds, lake, lightnings! ye, With night, and clouds, and thunder, and a soul To make these felt and feeling, well may be Things that have made me watchful; the far roll Of your departing voices, is the knoll Of what in me is sleepless, — if I rest. But where of ye, O tempests! is the goal? Are ye like those within the human breast? Or do ye find at length, like eagles, some high nest?
Page 75 - Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress...
Page 77 - Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms, — the day Battle's magnificently-stern array! The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent The earth is covered thick with other clay, Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent, Rider and horse, — friend, foe, — in one red burial blent ! XXIX.
Page 106 - I STOOD in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs, A palace and a prison on each hand ; I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand...
Page 76 - The foe! They come! They come!" And wild and high the "Cameron's gathering" rose! The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: — How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their...