 Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild ; Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his...  The works of ... lord Byron - Page 106by George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1818Full view - About this book
 | Andrews Norton - Periodicals - 1813 - 424 pages
...which need not such a contrast with their pristine glory, to render them intolerable. Unhappy Greece! Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his honied wealth Hymettus y,elds! There the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds— • The freeborn wanderer of thy mountain... | |
 | George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1815 - 334 pages
...only not regardless pass, Lingering like me, perchance, to gaze, and sigh " Alas !** '"• LXXXVII. Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild ; Sweet...verdant are thy fields, Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smil'd, And still his honied wealth Hymettus yields ; There the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds,... | |
 | George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1816 - 248 pages
...strangers only not regardless pass, Lingering like me, perchance, to gaze, and sigh "Alas!" LXXXVII. Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild ; Sweet...There the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds, The freeborn wanderer of thy mountain-air; Apollo still thy long, long summer gilds, Still in his beam... | |
 | George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1817 - 250 pages
...strangers only not regardless pass, Lingering like me, perchance, to gaze, and sigh "Alas!" LXXXVII. Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild; Sweet...There the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds, The freeborn wanderer of thy mountain-air; Apollo still thy long, long summer gilds, Still in his beam... | |
 | Methodist Church - 1880 - 820 pages
...spacious aspect and deep-blue tinge described by Byron : " Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags aa wild, Sweet are thy groves and verdant are thy fields,...Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his honeyed wealth Hymethus yields; There the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds, The free-born wanderer... | |
 | Mary Jane Mackenzie - 1820 - 298 pages
...and beautifully has the poet described the unfading loveliness of nature amidst the decay of art : Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild ; Sweet...are thy fields; Thine olive ripe, as when Minerva smil'd ; And still his honied wealth Hymettus yields. TBtWtj'the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds,... | |
 | William Gifford, Sir John Taylor Coleridge, John Gibson Lockhart, Whitwell Elwin, William Macpherson, William Smith, Sir John Murray (IV), Rowland Edmund Prothero (Baron Ernle) - English literature - 1820 - 628 pages
...Yet are her skies as blue, her crags as wild, Sweet are her groves and verdant are her fields, Her olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his honied wealth Hymettus yields ; There the blythe bee his fragrant fortress builds, The free-born wanderer of her mountain air ; Apollo still... | |
 | William Gifford, Sir John Taylor Coleridge, John Gibson Lockhart, Whitwell Elwin, William Macpherson, William Smith, Sir John Murray (IV), Rowland Edmund Prothero (Baron Ernle) - English literature - 1820 - 616 pages
...Yet are her skies as blue, her crags as wild, Sweet are her groves and verdant are her fields, Her olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his honied wealth Hymettus yields ; There the blythe bee his fragrant fortress builds, The free-born wanderer of her mountain air ; Apollo still... | |
 | George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - English poetry - 1821 - 478 pages
...strangers only not regardless pass, Lingering like me, perchance, to gaze, and sigh « Alas! » LXXXVH. Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild ; Sweet...There the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds, The freebora wanderer of thy mountain-air; Apollo still thy long, long summer gilds, Still in his beam... | |
 | mrs. Ross - 1821 - 688 pages
...While strangers only not regardless pass, Lingering like me, perchance, to gaze, and sigh 'Alas!' " Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild, Sweet...are thy fields, Thine olive ripe, as when Minerva smil'd, And still his honied wealth Hymettus yields ; There the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds,... | |
| |
