Childe Harold's pilgrimageJohn Murray, 1831 |
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Página 28
... fall where other chieftains lead , Thy name shall circle round the gaping throng , And shine in worthless lays , the theme of transient song ! XLIV . Enough of Battle's minions ! let them play 28 CANTO I CHILDE HAROLD'S.
... fall where other chieftains lead , Thy name shall circle round the gaping throng , And shine in worthless lays , the theme of transient song ! XLIV . Enough of Battle's minions ! let them play 28 CANTO I CHILDE HAROLD'S.
Página 29
... fall to deck some single name . In sooth ' t were sad to thwart their noble aim Who strike , blest hirelings ! for their country's good , And die , that living might have proved her shame ; Perish'd , perchance , in some domestic feud ...
... fall to deck some single name . In sooth ' t were sad to thwart their noble aim Who strike , blest hirelings ! for their country's good , And die , that living might have proved her shame ; Perish'd , perchance , in some domestic feud ...
Página 31
... Ah ! Spain ! how sad will be thy reckoning - day , When soars Gaul's Vulture , with his wings unfurl'd , And thou shalt view thy sons in crowds to Hades hurl'd . LIII . And must they fall ? the young , CANTO I 31 PILGRIMAGE .
... Ah ! Spain ! how sad will be thy reckoning - day , When soars Gaul's Vulture , with his wings unfurl'd , And thou shalt view thy sons in crowds to Hades hurl'd . LIII . And must they fall ? the young , CANTO I 31 PILGRIMAGE .
Página 32
George Gordon Byron Baron Byron. LIII . And must they fall ? the young , the proud , the brave , To swell one bloated Chief's unwholesome reign ? No step between submission and a grave ? The rise of rapine and the fall of Spain ? And ...
George Gordon Byron Baron Byron. LIII . And must they fall ? the young , the proud , the brave , To swell one bloated Chief's unwholesome reign ? No step between submission and a grave ? The rise of rapine and the fall of Spain ? And ...
Página 33
... fall ? What maid retrieve when man's flush'd hope is lost ? Who hang so fiercely on the flying Gaul , Foil'd by a woman's hand , before a batter'd wall ? ( 11 ) LVII . Yet are Spain's maids no race of Amazons , But form'd for all the ...
... fall ? What maid retrieve when man's flush'd hope is lost ? Who hang so fiercely on the flying Gaul , Foil'd by a woman's hand , before a batter'd wall ? ( 11 ) LVII . Yet are Spain's maids no race of Amazons , But form'd for all the ...
Términos y frases comunes
Albania Ali Pacha amongst ancient Athens beauty behold beneath blood Boccaccio bosom breast breath brow Cæsar Canto Childe Harold CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE church Cicero Constantinople dark death deem'd deep doth dust earth Egeria fair fame feel foes gaze glory gondoliers Greece Greek hand hath heart Heaven hills honour hope immortal Italian Italy Julius Cæsar lake land line last live Lord mind mortal mountains never o'er once pass pass'd Petrarch plain poet rock Romaic Roman Rome scene seen shore sigh smile song soul spot Stanza Storia Tasso tears temple thee thine things thou thought tomb triumph Venetians Venice walls waves wild winds woes wolf words ἀπὸ δὲν διὰ Ἐγὼ εἶναι εἰς εἰς τὴν ἐν καὶ κὴ μὲ νὰ σᾶς τὰ τὰς τὴν τῆς τὸ τὸν τοῦ τοὺς τῶν ὡς
Pasajes populares
Página 269 - His steps are not upon thy paths— thy fields Are not a spoil for him— thou dost arise And shake him from thee ; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth — there let him lay.
Página 269 - 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.
Página 270 - twas a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.
Página 256 - And his droop'd head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him— he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won. He heard it, but he heeded not— his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away...
Página 168 - The castled crag of Drachenfels Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine, And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, And fields which promise corn and wine, And scatter'd cities crowning these, Whose far white walls along them shine, Have strew'da scene, •which I should see With double joy wert thou with me.
Página 235 - Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, ye! Whose agonies are evils of a day — A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. LXXIX. The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe; An empty urn within...
Página 255 - I see before me the Gladiator lie: He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his droop'd head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now The arena swims around him! — He is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won.
Página 176 - Are not the mountains, waves, and skies, a part Of me and of my soul, as I of them?
Página 218 - The moon is up, and yet it is not night — Sunset divides the sky with her — a sea Of glory streams along the Alpine height Of blue Friuli's mountains ; heaven is free From clouds, but of all colours seems to be Melted to one vast Iris of the West, Where the day joins the past Eternity; While, on the other hand, meek Dian's crest Floats through the azure air — an island of the blest...
Página 183 - Could I embody and unbosom now That which is most within me — could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings, strong or weak, All that I would have sought, and all I seek, Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe — into one word, And that one word were Lightning, I would speak ; But as it is, I live and die unheard, With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword.