The Works of Lord Byron, Volume 2J. Murray, 1823 |
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Página 273
... Persian fable . If I mistake not , the " Bulbul of a thousand tales " is one of his appellations . Note 3 , page 215 , line 1 . Till the gay mariner's guitar . The guitar is the constant amusement of the Greek sailor by night with a ...
... Persian fable . If I mistake not , the " Bulbul of a thousand tales " is one of his appellations . Note 3 , page 215 , line 1 . Till the gay mariner's guitar . The guitar is the constant amusement of the Greek sailor by night with a ...
Página 303
... Persian Atar - gul's ( 15 ) perfume , And sprinkled all its odours o'er The pictured roof ( 16 ) and marble floor : The drops , that through his glittering vest The playful girl's appeal addrest , Unheeded o'er his bosom flew , As if ...
... Persian Atar - gul's ( 15 ) perfume , And sprinkled all its odours o'er The pictured roof ( 16 ) and marble floor : The drops , that through his glittering vest The playful girl's appeal addrest , Unheeded o'er his bosom flew , As if ...
Página 316
... Persian scribes redeem'd from time ; And o'er those scrolls , not oft so mute , Reclines her now neglected lute ; And round her lamp of fretted gold Bloom flowers in urns of China's mould ; The richest work of Iran's loom , And Sheeraz ...
... Persian scribes redeem'd from time ; And o'er those scrolls , not oft so mute , Reclines her now neglected lute ; And round her lamp of fretted gold Bloom flowers in urns of China's mould ; The richest work of Iran's loom , And Sheeraz ...
Página 347
... , the moral poet of Persia . Note 4 , page 294 , line 17 . Till I , who heard the deep tambour . Tambour , Turkish drum , which sounds at sunrise , noon , and twilight . Note 5 , page 297 , line 21 . He 291 Canto II 313 Notes.
... , the moral poet of Persia . Note 4 , page 294 , line 17 . Till I , who heard the deep tambour . Tambour , Turkish drum , which sounds at sunrise , noon , and twilight . Note 5 , page 297 , line 21 . He 291 Canto II 313 Notes.
Página 350
... Persian Atar - gul's perfume . Atar - gul , " ottar of roses . The Persian is the finest . Note 16 , page 303 , line 18 . The 350 NOTES TO.
... Persian Atar - gul's perfume . Atar - gul , " ottar of roses . The Persian is the finest . Note 16 , page 303 , line 18 . The 350 NOTES TO.
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Palavras e frases frequentes
Amaun amongst ancient Ariosto arms beauty beheld beneath birth blest blood Boccaccio breast brow Cæsar called Canto Certaldo Chioza church Cicero Classical Tour Comitium Dante dark dead death Decameron deed deep dust earth edit Egeria fall fate fear feel Ficus Ruminalis Florence foes gaze Giaffir Giaour glory gondoliers grave hand hate hath heart heaven hills honour hope hour hyæna immortal inscription Italian Italy Julius Cæsar lake light Livy Machiavelli memory mind mountains Muses Nardini ne'er never Niccolò Machiavelli Note o'er once Pacha pass Petrarch poet Prince republic republic of Florence Roman Rome rose round seen Selim shine shore slave soul Stanza statue steed Storia stream Suetonius tale Tasso tears temple thee thine thou thought Timariots tomb Twas valley Venetians Venice voice wave winds woes wolf word writer Zuleika καὶ
Passagens conhecidas
Página 271 - 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...
Página 81 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his droop'd head sinks gradually low — 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.
Página 96 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, •To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean— roll!
Página 96 - 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, nor doth remain A shadow of man's ravage, save his own.
Página 198 - 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 theirs a name of fear That Tyranny shall quake to hear...
Página 60 - There is a stern round tower of other days,' Firm as a fortress, with its fence of stone, Such as an army's baffled strength delays, Standing with half its battlements alone, And with two thousand years of ivy grown, The garland of eternity, where wave The green leaves over all by time o'erthrown ; — What was this tower of strength ? within its cave What treasure lay so lock'd, so hid ? — A woman's grave.
Página 83 - When the light shines serene but doth not glare, Then in this magic circle raise the dead : Heroes have trod this spot — 'tis on their dust ye tread. " While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand ; When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall ; And when Rome falls — the World.
Página 196 - The fixed yet tender traits that streak The languor of the placid cheek, 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...
Página 225 - But first, on earth as Vampire sent, Thy corse shall from its tomb be 'rent : Then ghastly haunt thy native place, And suck the blood of all thy race : There, from thy daughter, sister, wife, At midnight drain the stream of life ; Yet loathe the banquet which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse : Thy victims, ere they yet expire, Shall know the demon for their sire, As cursing thee, thou cursing them, Thy flowers are withered on the stem.
Página 197 - Hers is the loveliness in death. That parts not quite with parting breath ; But beauty with that fearful bloom, That hue which haunts it to the tomb — Expression's...