The poetical works of lord Byron. Illustr. edVirtue, 1879 |
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Page 365
... live , and as long as she likes ; I de- mand Nothing more than the heart of her daughter and hand . Ink . Why , that heart's in the inkstand - that hand on the pen . Tra . Apropos - Will you write me a song now and then ? Ink . To what ...
... live , and as long as she likes ; I de- mand Nothing more than the heart of her daughter and hand . Ink . Why , that heart's in the inkstand - that hand on the pen . Tra . Apropos - Will you write me a song now and then ? Ink . To what ...
Page 367
... lives . Miss Lil . And why not ? Ink . No reason whatever , save that he's a sot . Lady Bluemount ! a glass of ... live , my dear Botherby , never defend Yourself or your works ; but leave both to a friend . Apropos - Is your play ...
... lives . Miss Lil . And why not ? Ink . No reason whatever , save that he's a sot . Lady Bluemount ! a glass of ... live , my dear Botherby , never defend Yourself or your works ; but leave both to a friend . Apropos - Is your play ...
Page 370
... live his day , such as he is . It had been more agreeable , and certainly more easy , to have drawn an amiable character . It had been easy to varnish over his faults , to make him do more and express less ; but he never was intended as ...
... live his day , such as he is . It had been more agreeable , and certainly more easy , to have drawn an amiable character . It had been easy to varnish over his faults , to make him do more and express less ; but he never was intended as ...
Page 375
... lives , and barter breath for fame : Fame that will scarce reanimate their clay , Though thousands fall to deck some single name . In sooth , ' twere sad to thwart their noble aim Who strike , blest hirelings ! for their country's good ...
... lives , and barter breath for fame : Fame that will scarce reanimate their clay , Though thousands fall to deck some single name . In sooth , ' twere sad to thwart their noble aim Who strike , blest hirelings ! for their country's good ...
Page 376
... live King Ferdinand ! is the chorus of most of the Spanish patriotic songs . They are chiefly in dispraise of the old King Charles , the Queen , and the Prince of Peace . I have heard many of them : some of the airs are beautiful . Don ...
... live King Ferdinand ! is the chorus of most of the Spanish patriotic songs . They are chiefly in dispraise of the old King Charles , the Queen , and the Prince of Peace . I have heard many of them : some of the airs are beautiful . Don ...
Common terms and phrases
Aholibamah Anah Assyria aught bear beauty behold beneath blood bosom breast breath brow Cæs chief dare death deem'd deep Doge Doge of Venice dost doth e'er earth eternal Exeunt Exit eyes Faliero father fear feel gaze glory hand hath hear heart heaven honour hour Iden IDENSTEIN Irad Japh king Lady leave less Lioni live look lord Marino Faliero Mede Michel Steno mortal Myrrha ne'er never night noble o'er once Orlando palace PANIA pass'd passion patrician prince Rome Salemenes Sardanapalus satraps scene shore Sieg Siegendorf sire slave smile sought soul speak spirit stars Stral Stralenheim Stran sword tears thee thine things thou hast thought throne twas twill Ulric unto Venice walls wave words wouldst
Popular passages
Page 418 - 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...
Page 400 - 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 394 - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, 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...
Page 400 - Ye stars! which are the poetry of heaven! If in your bright leaves we would read the fate Of men and empires, — 'tis to be forgiven, That in our aspirations to be great, Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state, And claim a kindred with you; for ye are A beauty and a mystery, and create In us such love and reverence from afar, That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star.
Page 398 - Above me are the Alps, The palaces of Nature, whose vast walls Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps, And throned Eternity in icy halls Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls The avalanche — the thunderbolt of snow ! All that expands the spirit, yet appals, Gather around these summits, as to show How Earth may pierce to Heaven, yet leave vain man below, LXIII.
Page 407 - Fill'd with the face of heaven, which, from afar, Comes down upon the waters ; all its hues, From the rich sunset to the rising star, Their magical variety diffuse : And now they change ; a paler shadow strews Its mantle o'er the mountains ; parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till — 'tis gone — and all is gray.
Page 405 - 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 Looked to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Page 422 - 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.
Page 383 - midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men, To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess, And roam along, the world's tired denizen, With none who bless us, none whom we can bless ; Minions of splendour shrinking from distress! None that, with kindred consciousness endued, If we were not, would seem to smile the less Of all that flatter'd, follow'd, sought, and sued ; This is to be alone; this, this is solitude!
Page 393 - 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...