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arms bear beauty beneath blood bosom breast breath bright brow Byron chief child clouds cold dare dark dead dear death deeds deep dread dream earth face fair fall fame fate fear feel fell felt fire foes gaze give glance gone grave hand hate hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour knew land least leave less light lips live look Lord lost meet mind mountain ne'er never night o'er once pass past pride raised rest rise roll round scarce scene seek seen shore sigh sleep smile song soul sound spirit stood sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought truth turn Twas vain voice wall wave wild wind young youth
Page 388 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Page 491 - You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet, Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone ? Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one ? You have the letters Cadmus gave — Think ye he meant them for a slave ? Fill high the bowl with Samian wine!
Page 490 - The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece ! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, — Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung ! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set.
Page 491 - Fill high the bowl with Samian wine ! We will not think of themes like these ! It made Anacreon's song divine: He served — but served Polycrates : A tyrant; but our masters then Were still, at least, our countrymen.
Page 463 - THERE be none of Beauty's daughters With a magic like thee ; And like music on the waters Is thy sweet voice to me : When, as if its sound were causing The charmed ocean's pausing, The waves lie still and gleaming, And the lull'd winds seem dreaming, And the midnight moon is weaving Her bright chain o'er the deep ; Whose breast is gently heaving, As an infant's asleep...
Page 284 - I have done with this new day, Which now is painful to these eyes, Which have not seen the sun so rise For years — I cannot count them o'er, I lost their long and heavy score When my last brother droop'd and died. And I lay living by his side. They chain'd us each to a column stone, And we were three — yet, each alone : We could not move a single pace, We could not see each other's face. But with that pale and livid light That made us strangers in our sight...
Page 397 - 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...
Page 404 - He is an evening reveller who makes His life an infancy, and sings his fill; At intervals, some bird from out the brakes Starts into voice a moment, then is still, There seems a floating whisper on the hill, But that is fancy, for the starlight dews All silently their tears of love instil. Weeping themselves away, till they infuse Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues.
Page 283 - To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. 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.