Byron's Childe Harold (canto IV): Prisoner of Chillon and Other SelectionsAmerican Book Company, 1911 - 170 pages |
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Page 10
... seemed to tire of himself , to weary of sensual delights , and even to lose interest in the poetic art . Political questions called his energies away from poetry to war . An ardent lover of liberty , he wished to promote the actual free ...
... seemed to tire of himself , to weary of sensual delights , and even to lose interest in the poetic art . Political questions called his energies away from poetry to war . An ardent lover of liberty , he wished to promote the actual free ...
Page 27
... seemed to say them all for me ! 270 I never saw its like before , I ne'er shall see its likeness more : It seemed like me to want a mate , But was not half so desolate , 1 How could the bird be perched through a crevice ? And it was ...
... seemed to say them all for me ! 270 I never saw its like before , I ne'er shall see its likeness more : It seemed like me to want a mate , But was not half so desolate , 1 How could the bird be perched through a crevice ? And it was ...
Page 30
... seemed joyous each and all ; The eagle rode the rising blast , Methought he never flew so fast As then to me he seemed to fly ; 355 And then new tears came in my eye , And I felt troubled - and would fain I had not left my recent chain ...
... seemed joyous each and all ; The eagle rode the rising blast , Methought he never flew so fast As then to me he seemed to fly ; 355 And then new tears came in my eye , And I felt troubled - and would fain I had not left my recent chain ...
Page 118
... seemed At Cleopatra's feet , -- and now himself he beamed , 800 805 810 XCI . And came and saw - and conquered ! But the man 3 Who would have tamed his eagles down to flee , Like a trained falcon , in the Gallic 4 van , Which he , in ...
... seemed At Cleopatra's feet , -- and now himself he beamed , 800 805 810 XCI . And came and saw - and conquered ! But the man 3 Who would have tamed his eagles down to flee , Like a trained falcon , in the Gallic 4 van , Which he , in ...
Page 147
... seemed to cloy . CLXIX . Peasants bring forth in safety . — Can it be , 1510 O thou that wert so happy , so adored ! Those who weep not for kings shall weep for thee , 1515 And Freedom's heart , grown heavy , cease to hoard Her many ...
... seemed to cloy . CLXIX . Peasants bring forth in safety . — Can it be , 1510 O thou that wert so happy , so adored ! Those who weep not for kings shall weep for thee , 1515 And Freedom's heart , grown heavy , cease to hoard Her many ...
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Common terms and phrases
Bards battle of Pultowa beauty beheld beneath blood Boccaccio born breast breath bright brow Byron Cæsar Canto chain Childe Harold Childe Harold's Pilgrimage clay cloud cold Cossack courser dark dead death deemed deep died divine dost doth dread dungeon dust dwell earth Egeria eternal eyes fame feel fettered foam gaze glory grave Greece Greek hath heart heaven Hetman hope horse hour immortal Italy king lake limbs literary Lord Mazeppa mighty mind monarch mother mountain Nature's Newstead Abbey night o'er ocean once pain Perchance Petrarch poem poet poetry Prisoner of Chillon proud Roman Rome round ruin Samian wine shore sigh sire skies smile song soul spirit stanzas star steed sword tears thee thine things thou thought thousand throne tomb TOZER tree twas tyrant Ukraine Venice walls waters waves wild wind woes youth ΙΟ
Popular passages
Page 155 - Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave. A king sate on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis; And ships by thousands lay below, And men in nations; — all were his! He counted them at break of day, And when the sun set, where were they?
Page 74 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet.— But hark!
Page 151 - Dark-heaving; boundless, endless, and sublime, The image of Eternity, the throne Of the invisible,— even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Page 151 - 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 75 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips - 'The foe! they come! they come!
Page 84 - 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 : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Page 150 - Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll! Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; Man marks the earth with ruin — his control Stops with the shore ; upon the watery plain The wrecks are all thy deed...
Page 137 - Were with his heart, and that was far away. He recked 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, Butchered to make a Roman holiday!
Page 17 - 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.
Page 152 - And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers — they to me Were a delight : and if the freshening sea Made them a terror — '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.