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2a ff Alliteration Aufl Ausgabe Bandow beautiful bemerkt beneath blood Bonivard breath Byron's Chaworth Childe Childe Harold citiert clouds crevice Darkness dead death deep Dichter Dichtungen Dream dungeon earth edition englischen Epitheton ersten eyes faithless feeling first folgenden Gedicht Giaour grave great hand hath head heart heaven heisst high hope hour know Lake last left Letter life light lines little London long look Lord Byron love made make massy Medwin mind Moore aao Murray never night Note o'er once Parisina poem poetical works Pris Prisoner of Chillon read Rhone sagt Schloss Chillon Scott Shelley shore Siege of Corinth soul sound spirit Stelle stood street Text thee things Thomas Moore thou thought time Übersetzer unserem Vathek Verse Vevey volumes wall Werke WG 2a WG 4a ff wild works of Lord world years
224. oldal - And I beheld when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood...
128. 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; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While throng'd the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips — »The foe! They come! they come!« And wild and high the 'Cameron's gathering...
104. oldal - There is not wind enough in the air To move away the ringlet curl From the lovely lady's cheek— There is not wind enough to twirl The one red leaf, the last of its clan, That dances as often as dance it can, Hanging so light, and hanging so high, On the topmost twig that looks up at the sky.
106. oldal - But never either found another To free the hollow heart from paining — They stood aloof, the scars remaining, Like cliffs which had been rent asunder ; A dreary sea now flows between, But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder, Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once hath been.
433. oldal - 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 ! Ye Elements!
433. oldal - 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!
72. oldal - t is to be forgiven, That in our aspirations to be great, Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state, And claim a kindred with you ; for ye are A beauty and a mystery, and create In us such love and reverence from afar, That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star.
276. oldal - Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar — for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard ! — May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
434. oldal - The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains. — Beautiful! I linger yet with Nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man ; and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness, I learn'd the language of another world.