The Giaour: A Fragment of a Turkish Tale |
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Page 3
... shore , 40 Rush the night - prowlers on the prey , And turn to groans his roundelay . 45 Strange that where Nature lov'd to trace , As if for Gods , a dwelling - place , And every charm and grace hath mixed Within the paradise she fixed ...
... shore , 40 Rush the night - prowlers on the prey , And turn to groans his roundelay . 45 Strange that where Nature lov'd to trace , As if for Gods , a dwelling - place , And every charm and grace hath mixed Within the paradise she fixed ...
Page 5
... shore-- 90 ' Tis Greece - but living Greece no more ! So coldly sweet , so deadly fair , We start for soul is wanting there . Hers is the loveliness in death , That parts not quite with parting breath ; 95 But beauty with that fearful ...
... shore-- 90 ' Tis Greece - but living Greece no more ! So coldly sweet , so deadly fair , We start for soul is wanting there . Hers is the loveliness in death , That parts not quite with parting breath ; 95 But beauty with that fearful ...
Page 6
... shore is this ? The gulf , the rock of Salamis ! These scenes their story not unknown- Arise , and make again your own ; Snatch from the ashes of your sires The embers of their former fires , And he who in the strife expires Will add to ...
... shore is this ? The gulf , the rock of Salamis ! These scenes their story not unknown- Arise , and make again your own ; Snatch from the ashes of your sires The embers of their former fires , And he who in the strife expires Will add to ...
Page 7
... shore ? No legend of thine olden time , No theme on which the muse might soar , High as thine own in days of yore , 145 When man was worthy of thy clime . The hearts within thy valleys bred , The fiery souls THE GIAOUR .
... shore ? No legend of thine olden time , No theme on which the muse might soar , High as thine own in days of yore , 145 When man was worthy of thy clime . The hearts within thy valleys bred , The fiery souls THE GIAOUR .
Page 9
... shore Receives him by the lovely light That best becomes an Eastern night . * 170 175 Who thundering comes on blackest steed ? 180 With slacken'd bit and hoof of speed , Beneath the clattering iron's sound The cavern'd echoes wake ...
... shore Receives him by the lovely light That best becomes an Eastern night . * 170 175 Who thundering comes on blackest steed ? 180 With slacken'd bit and hoof of speed , Beneath the clattering iron's sound The cavern'd echoes wake ...
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Common terms and phrases
Amaun arms aught band beam bear beneath blood bosom bread and salt breast breath brow Calpac CANTO cheek Conrad dare dark death deeds deep despair doom dread dream earth Ezzelin fair faithless falchion fate fear feel fix'd foes gaze Giaffir Giaour glance grave grief Gulnare hand Haram Hassan hast hate hath heard heart heaven Hellespont hope hour Houris knew Koran land Lara Lara's less light line 12 lonely look lord LORD BYRON lov'd Mussulman ne'er never night Note numbers o'er once Otho Pacha pale pass'd perchance pride rest rose round sabre scarce seem'd Selim Seyd shore silent slave smile soothe sought soul spirit steed stern stranger strife tale tear tell thee thine thou thought tide Timariot turban Turkish turn'd Twas twere voice wave Whate'er wild wind words wound Zuleika
Popular passages
Page 1 - KNOW ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime...
Page 62 - Salamis ! Their azure arches through the long expanse More deeply purpled meet his mellowing glance, And tenderest tints, along their summits driven, Mark his gay course and own the hues of heaven ; Till, darkly shaded from the land and deep, Behind his Delphian cliff he sinks to sleep.
Page 1 - Gul in her bloom? Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit, And the voice of the nightingale never is mute, Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky, In colour though varied, in beauty may vie...
Page 11 - Unlike the heroes of each ancient race, Demons in act, but Gods at least in face, In Conrad's form seems little to admire, Though his dark eye-brow shades a glance of fire : Robust but not Herculean — to the sight No giant frame sets forth his common height ; 20& Yet in the whole — who paused to look again, Saw more than marks the crowd of vulgar men — They gaze and marvel how — and still confess That thus it is, but why they cannot guess.
Page 7 - Bear witness, Greece, thy living page ! Attest it many a deathless age ! While kings, in dusty darkness hid, Have left a nameless pyramid, Thy heroes, though the general doom Hath swept the column from their tomb, A mightier monument command, The mountains of their native land...
Page 4 - And — but for that sad shrouded eye, That fires not, wins not, weeps not now, And but for that chill changeless brow, Where cold Obstruction's apathy Appals the gazing mourner's heart...
Page 4 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress, (Before Decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers...
Page 25 - Sestos' daughter. Oh ! when alone along the sky Her turret-torch was blazing high, Though rising gale, and breaking foam, And shrieking sea-birds warned him home ; And clouds aloft and tides below, With signs and sounds, forbade to go, He could not see, he would not hear > Or sound or sign foreboding fear ; His eye but saw that light of love, The only star it hailed above; His ear but rang with Hero's song, " Ye waves, divide not lovers long !"— That tale is old, but Love anew May nerve young hearts...
Page 10 - That moulds another's weakness to its will; Wields with their hands, but, still to these unknown, Makes even their mightiest deeds appear his own. Such hath it been — shall be — beneath the sun The many still must labour for the one! 'Tis Nature's doom — but let the wretch who toils, Accuse not, hate not lam who wears the spoils.
Page 10 - Whose name appals the fiercest of his crew, And tints each swarthy cheek with sallower hue; Still sways their souls with that commanding art That dazzles, leads, yet chills the vulgar heart. What is that spell, that thus his lawless train Confess and envy, yet oppose in vain? What should it be, that thus their faith can bind? The power of Thought - the magic of the Mind!