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Alas! our young affections run to waste,
Or water but the desert.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. St. 120.

I see before me the Gladiator lie.

Canto iv. St. 140.

There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother, he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday.

Canto iv. St. 141.

"While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand; When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall;

"1

And when Rome falls, the World."

Canto iv. St. 145.

Scion of chiefs and monarchs, where art thou? Fond hope of many nations, art thou dead? Could not the grave forget thee, and lay low Some less majestic, less beloved head?

Canto iv. St. 168. Oh! that the desert were my dwelling-place,

With one fair Spirit for my minister,
That I might all forget the human race,
And, hating no one, love but only her!
Canto iv. St. 177.
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.
Canto iv. St. 178.

1 Literally, the exclamation of the pilgrims in the eighth century, as recorded by the Venerable Bede.

Compare Gibbon, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Ch. 71.

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.

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. St. 179. He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unCanto iv. St. 179.

known.

Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow —1 Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now.

Canto iv. St. 182.

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests. Canto iv. St. 183.

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 wanton'd with thy breakers,

And trusted to thy billows far and near,

And laid my hand upon thy mane

here.2

Would it were worthier!

as I do

Canto iv. St. 184.

Canto iv. St. 185.

And what is writ, is writ,

Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been

A sound which makes us linger ;

well.

-yet-fare

Canto iv. St. 186.

And thou vast ocean, on whose awful face Time's iron feet can print no ruin-trace. Robert Montgomery, The Omnipresence of the Deity. 2 He laid his hand upon "the ocean's mane," And played familiar with his hoary locks. Pollok, The Course of Time, Book iv. Line 389.

Hands promiscuously applied,

Round the slight waist, or down the glowing side.

He who hath bent him o'er the dead

Ere the first day of death is fled,
The first dark day of nothingness,

The last of danger and distress,
Before Decay's effacing fingers

The Waltz.

Have swept the lines where beauty lingers.

The Giaour. Line 68.

Such is the aspect of this shore ;

Line 90.

'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more!
So coldly sweet, so deadly fair,
We start, for soul is wanting there.
Shrine of the mighty! can it be
That this is all remains of thee?
For freedom's battle, once begun,
Bequeath'd by bleeding sire to son,
Though baffled oft, is ever won.

Line 106.

And lovelier things have mercy shown
To every failing but their own;

And every woe a tear can claim,

Line 123

Except an erring sister's shame.

Line 418.

The keenest pangs the wretched find

Are rapture to the dreary void,

The leafless desert of the mind,

The waste of feelings unemploy'd. Line 957.

Better to sink beneath the shock

Than moulder piecemeal on the rock!

Line 969.

The cold in clime are cold in blood,

Their love can scarce deserve the name.
The Giaour. Line 1099.

I die—but first I have possess'd,

And come what may, I have been blest.

Line 1114.

She was a form of life and light,
That, seen, became a part of sight;
And rose, where'er I turned mine eye,
The Morning-star of Memory!

Yes, Love indeed is light from heaven;

A spark of that immortal fire

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With Angels shared, by Alla given,

To lift from earth our low desire. Line 1127.

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?1 The Bride of Abydos. Canto i. St. 1. Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine, And all, save the spirit of man, is divine?

Canto i. St. I.

Who hath not proved how feebly words essay To fix one spark of Beauty's heavenly ray? Who doth not feel, until his failing sight Faints into dimness with its own delight,

1 Know'st thou the land where the lemon-trees bloom, Where the gold orange glows in the deep thicket's gloom, Where a wind ever soft from the blue heaven blows, And the groves are of laurel, and myrtle, and rose? Goethe, Wilhelm Meister.

His changing cheek, his sinking heart confess

The might

the majesty of Loveliness?

The Bride of Abydos. Canto i. St. 6.

The light of love, the purity of grace,

The mind, the music breathing from her face,1 The heart whose softness harmonized the whole, And oh that eye was in itself a Soul.

Canto i. St. 6.

The blind old man of Scio's rocky isle.

Canto ii. St. 2.

Be thou the rainbow to the storms of life!

The evening beam that smiles the clouds away, And tints to-morrow with prophetic ray!

Canto ii. St. 20.

He makes a solitude, and calls it—peace.2

Canto ii. St. 20.

Hark! to the hurried question of Despair : "Where is my child?".

"Where?"

an Echo answers

Canto ii. St. 27.

O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea,

Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam,* Survey our empire, and behold our home.

The Corsair. Canto i. St. I.

1 Compare Lovelace, p. 161, and Browne's Religio Medici, Part ii. Sec. 9.

2 Solitudinem faciunt,

Agricola, Cap. 30.

pacem appellant. — Tacitus,

8 I came to the place of my birth, and cried, "The friends of my Youth, where are they?" And an Echo answered, "Where are they?"- From An Arabic MS.

4 To all nations their empire will be dreadful; be

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