Selections from the writings of lord Byron, by a clergyman [W. Elwin]. |
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Page 15
... pass judgment only on works requiring the public attention . You will see this when it comes out ; it is , I understand , of the most unmerciful descrip- tion ; but I am aware of it , and hope you will not be hurt by its severity ...
... pass judgment only on works requiring the public attention . You will see this when it comes out ; it is , I understand , of the most unmerciful descrip- tion ; but I am aware of it , and hope you will not be hurt by its severity ...
Page 26
... pass ; we shall all one day pass along with the rest the world is too full of such things , and our very sorrow is selfish . I received a letter from you , which my late occupa- tions prevented me from duly noticing . I hope your ...
... pass ; we shall all one day pass along with the rest the world is too full of such things , and our very sorrow is selfish . I received a letter from you , which my late occupa- tions prevented me from duly noticing . I hope your ...
Page 28
... pass the day in riding and swimming ) , and William Bankes , who was good - naturedly tolerant of my ferocities . It was not till 1807 , after I had been upwards of a year away from Cambridge , to which I had returned again to reside ...
... pass the day in riding and swimming ) , and William Bankes , who was good - naturedly tolerant of my ferocities . It was not till 1807 , after I had been upwards of a year away from Cambridge , to which I had returned again to reside ...
Page 37
... passes for a trait of sensibility . What strange beings men are , in and out of the Wye ! -To Mr. Bankes , Sept. 28 , 1812 . DULNESS OF ENGLISH SOCIETY . I return the Count D'Orsay's Journal , which is a very extraordinary production ...
... passes for a trait of sensibility . What strange beings men are , in and out of the Wye ! -To Mr. Bankes , Sept. 28 , 1812 . DULNESS OF ENGLISH SOCIETY . I return the Count D'Orsay's Journal , which is a very extraordinary production ...
Page 39
... pass what is called life . To - morrow there is Lady Heathcote's - shall I go ? yes - to punish myself for not having a pursuit . Diary , March 22 , 1814 . I went out very little last year , and mean to go about still less . I have no ...
... pass what is called life . To - morrow there is Lady Heathcote's - shall I go ? yes - to punish myself for not having a pursuit . Diary , March 22 , 1814 . I went out very little last year , and mean to go about still less . I have no ...
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Selections from the Writings of Lord Byron, by a Clergyman [W. Elwin] George Gordon N Byron (6th Baron ) No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
answer appear bear beauty beneath blood blue break breast breath bright calm CHILDE HAROLD.-Canto dark dead death deep dream earth face fair fall father fear feel fire foes friends gaze gone grave half hand hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour human Italy kind knew Lady land least leave less letter light living look Lord Byron meet mind mountains nature never night o'er once pass passion poetry rest Review rise rock rose round scarce scene seems seen shine shore sight smile soul sound spirit stands stars stood stream sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought thousand Twas Venice voice walls waters waves wild wind wing wish young
Popular passages
Page 11 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blush'd at the praise of their own loveliness : And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Page 13 - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms the day Battle's magnificently stern array...
Page 21 - Clear, placid Leman! thy contrasted lake, With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction; once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
Page 12 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass...
Page 135 - Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
Page 91 - It might be months, or years, or days, I kept no count, I took no note, I had no hope my eyes to raise, And clear them of their dreary mote...
Page 22 - The sky is changed ! and such a change ! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder...
Page 45 - 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, When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, Without a grave, unknell'd, uncoffin'd, and unknown.
Page 27 - I STOOD in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs ; A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Page 27 - In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more, And silent rows the songless gondolier ; Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, And music meets not always now the ear : Those days are gone but Beauty still is here. States fall, arts fade but Nature doth not die, Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy ! IV.