The Life of Lord Byron

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J. & J. Harper, 1832 - 334 páginas

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Página 327 - Near this spot are deposited the Remains of one, who possessed Beauty without Vanity, Strength without Insolence, Courage without Ferocity, and all the Virtues of Man, without his Vices. This praise, which would be unmeaning flattery if inscribed over human ashes, is but a just tribute to the memory of BOATSWAIN, A DOG, who was born in Newfoundland, May, 1803, and died at Newstead, Nov.
Página 122 - 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 ; But beauty with that fearful bloom, That hue which haunts it to the tomb ; Expression's last receding ray, A gilded halo hovering round decay...
Página 195 - I have not loved the world, nor the world me ; I have not flatter'd its rank breath, nor bow'd To its idolatries a patient knee, — Nor coin'd my cheek to smiles,— nor cried aloud In worship of an echo ; in the crowd They could not deem me one of such ; I stood Among them, but not of them ; in a shroud Of thoughts which were not their thoughts, and still could, Had I not filed my mind, which thus itself subdued.
Página 208 - Meantime I seek no sympathies, nor need ; The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree I planted, — they have torn me — and I bleed : I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.
Página 121 - 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.
Página 64 - My joy was in the Wilderness, to breathe The difficult air of the iced mountain's top, Where the birds dare not build, nor insect's wing Flit o'er the herbless granite...
Página 172 - The mother of Sisera looked out at a window and cried through the lattice Why is his chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels of his chariots?
Página 48 - AH ! gentle, fleeting, wav'ring sprite, Friend and associate of this clay ! To what unknown region borne, Wilt thou now wing thy distant flight ? No more with wonted humour gay, But pallid, cheerless, and forlorn.
Página 187 - There was a laughing Devil in his sneer, That raised emotions both of rage and fear; And where his frown of hatred darkly fell, Hope withering fled, and Mercy sigh'd farewell!
Página 190 - It was the night — and Lara's glassy stream The stars are studding, each with imaged beam; So calm, the waters scarcely seem to stray, And yet they glide like happiness away...

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