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bear beautiful beneath blood blue break breast breath brow Byron Cain Canto CHILDE CHILDE HAROLD cold dare dark dead death deep died Don Juan earth eyes face fair fall fear feel felt gaze give gone grave hand happy hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour human Italy knew Lady land leaves less light living look Lord mind mortal mother mountains nature never night o'er o’er once pass past poems poet poetic poetry rest rise rose round seen shore smile soul sound speak spirit stand Stanzas star stood sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought thousand true turn voice wall waters wave wild wind wrote young youth
92. oldal - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war...
82. oldal - 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, The farewell beam of feeling past away! Spark of that flame — perchance of heavenly birth — Which gleams, but warms no more its cherished earth!
67. oldal - You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet : Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one?
94. oldal - 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 1 with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
32. oldal - Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child ! ADA ! sole daughter of my house and heart ? When last I saw thy young blue eyes they smiled, And then we parted, — not as now we part, But with a hope. — Awaking with a start, The waters heave around me ; and on high The winds lift up their voices : I depart, Whither I know not ; but the hour's gone by, When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.
lvii. oldal - What, in ill thoughts again ? Men must endure Their going hence, even as their coming hither : Ripeness is all : Come on.
256. oldal - A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping, Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping In sight, then lost amidst the forestry Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy; A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown On a fool's head- and there is London Town!
102. oldal - 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.
125. oldal - Lone — as a solitary cloud, A single cloud on a sunny day, While all the rest of heaven is clear, A frown upon the atmosphere, That hath no business to appear When skies are blue, and earth is gay.
96. oldal - Though in their souls, which thus each other thwarted, Love was the very root of the fond rage Which blighted their life's bloom, and then departed: — Itself expired, but leaving them an age Of years all winters, — war within themselves to wage.