The Works of Lord Byron, Volume 2J. Murray, 1823 |
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Página 39
... ( 32 ) Which Petrarch's laureate brow supremely wore , Upon a far and foreign soil had grown , His life , his fame , his grave , though rifled - not thine own . LVIII . Boccaccio to his parent earth bequeath'd ( 33 CANTO IV . 39 PILGRIMAGE .
... ( 32 ) Which Petrarch's laureate brow supremely wore , Upon a far and foreign soil had grown , His life , his fame , his grave , though rifled - not thine own . LVIII . Boccaccio to his parent earth bequeath'd ( 33 CANTO IV . 39 PILGRIMAGE .
Página 42
... his feet , And yawning forth a grave for those who lay Upon their bucklers for a winding sheet ; Such is the absorbing hate when warring nations meet ! LXIV . The Earth to them was as a rolling 42 CANTO IV . CHILDE HAROLD'S.
... his feet , And yawning forth a grave for those who lay Upon their bucklers for a winding sheet ; Such is the absorbing hate when warring nations meet ! LXIV . The Earth to them was as a rolling 42 CANTO IV . CHILDE HAROLD'S.
Página 55
... yet none have , Nor could , the same supremacy have near'd , Save one vain man , who is not in the grave , But , vanquish'd by himself , to his own slaves a slave- XC . The fool of false dominion - and a CANTO IV . 55 PILGRIMAGE .
... yet none have , Nor could , the same supremacy have near'd , Save one vain man , who is not in the grave , But , vanquish'd by himself , to his own slaves a slave- XC . The fool of false dominion - and a CANTO IV . 55 PILGRIMAGE .
Página 57
... grave to level him ; few years Had fix'd him with the Cæsars in his fate , On whom we tread : For this the conqueror rears The arch of triumph ! and for this the tears And blood of earth flow on as they have flow'd , An universal deluge ...
... grave to level him ; few years Had fix'd him with the Cæsars in his fate , On whom we tread : For this the conqueror rears The arch of triumph ! and for this the tears And blood of earth flow on as they have flow'd , An universal deluge ...
Página 60
... 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 . C. But who was she , the lady of the 60 CANTO IV . CHILDE HAROLD'S.
... 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 . C. But who was she , the lady of the 60 CANTO IV . CHILDE HAROLD'S.
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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...