Childe Harold's pilgrimage, ed. by W. Hiley |
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Page xii
... feeling , and a fierceness of power , for which we look in vain in the earlier poems . Nothing can surpass the sublimity of his communings with Nature , or the vigour with which he pours , as a lava stream , his burning utterances ...
... feeling , and a fierceness of power , for which we look in vain in the earlier poems . Nothing can surpass the sublimity of his communings with Nature , or the vigour with which he pours , as a lava stream , his burning utterances ...
Page 3
... feels relief by bidding sorrow flow , Nor sought he friend to counsel or condole , 1 Whate'er this grief mote be , which he could not control . IX And none did love him : though to hall and bower He gathered revellers from far and near ...
... feels relief by bidding sorrow flow , Nor sought he friend to counsel or condole , 1 Whate'er this grief mote be , which he could not control . IX And none did love him : though to hall and bower He gathered revellers from far and near ...
Page 4
... feel Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal . ΧΙ His house , his home , his heritage , his lands , The laughing dames in whom he did delight , Whose large blue eyes , fair locks , and snowy hands , Might shake the ...
... feel Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal . ΧΙ His house , his home , his heritage , his lands , The laughing dames in whom he did delight , Whose large blue eyes , fair locks , and snowy hands , Might shake the ...
Page 15
... feel the shock . XXXIX Lo ! where the Giant on the mountain stands , 2 His blood - red tresses deep'ning in the sun , With death - shot glowing in his fiery hands , And eye that scorcheth all it glares upon ; Restless it rolls , now ...
... feel the shock . XXXIX Lo ! where the Giant on the mountain stands , 2 His blood - red tresses deep'ning in the sun , With death - shot glowing in his fiery hands , And eye that scorcheth all it glares upon ; Restless it rolls , now ...
Page 39
... feels as lovers o'er the dust they loved ; Dull is the eye that will not weep to see Thy walls defaced , thy mouldering shrines removed 1 Alaric . ] The Goth , was driven out of Greece by Stilicho , A.D. 402. The popular story is here ...
... feels as lovers o'er the dust they loved ; Dull is the eye that will not weep to see Thy walls defaced , thy mouldering shrines removed 1 Alaric . ] The Goth , was driven out of Greece by Stilicho , A.D. 402. The popular story is here ...
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ancient bear beauty beneath blood breast breath Byron called Canto Childe Childe Harold cloth College Coloured Crown 8vo dark death deemed deep DICTIONARY died dream dwell earth Edition English Essays fair fall fame feel foes French gaze Glossary hand hath heart Heaven History hope hour human Illustrations Italy JOHN land late leaves less light living look Lord Maps mind mortal mountains Nature never night Notes o'er once pass Persian Plates poem poet Practical revised rise rock Roman Rome round scene Second seems shore sigh smile song soul spirit stands star tears thee thine things Third thou thought thousand tomb Translated vain vols walls waters waves wild wind Wood Woodcuts young 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...