Childe Harold: Canto the Fourth, The Prisoner of Chillon and MazepaHoughton Mifflin Company, 1909 - 136 páginas |
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Página 15
... Less lovely or more powerful , and couldst claim Thy right , and awe the robbers back , who press To shed thy blood and drink the tears of thy distress ; XLIII . Then mightst thou more appal ; or , less desired , Be homely and be ...
... Less lovely or more powerful , and couldst claim Thy right , and awe the robbers back , who press To shed thy blood and drink the tears of thy distress ; XLIII . Then mightst thou more appal ; or , less desired , Be homely and be ...
Página 19
... yore , Canova is to - day . LVI . But where repose the all Etruscan three Dante , and Petrarch , and , scarce less than they , The Bard of Prose , creative spirit , he 500 Of the Hundred Tales of love -- where did CHILDE HAROLD 19.
... yore , Canova is to - day . LVI . But where repose the all Etruscan three Dante , and Petrarch , and , scarce less than they , The Bard of Prose , creative spirit , he 500 Of the Hundred Tales of love -- where did CHILDE HAROLD 19.
Página 21
... Less than it feels , because the weapon which it wields 550 LXII . Is of another temper , and I roam By Thrasimene's lake , in the defiles Fatal to Roman rashness , more at home ; 555 560 565 570 575 For there the Carthaginian's warlike ...
... Less than it feels , because the weapon which it wields 550 LXII . Is of another temper , and I roam By Thrasimene's lake , in the defiles Fatal to Roman rashness , more at home ; 555 560 565 570 575 For there the Carthaginian's warlike ...
Página 30
... less happy than the tomb ? Were they but so in man's , how different were his doom ! LXXXVII . 775 And thou , dread statue , yet existent in The austerest form of naked majesty ! Thou who beheldest , ' mid the assassins ' din , At thy ...
... less happy than the tomb ? Were they but so in man's , how different were his doom ! LXXXVII . 775 And thou , dread statue , yet existent in The austerest form of naked majesty ! Thou who beheldest , ' mid the assassins ' din , At thy ...
Página 31
... less terrestrial mould , With passions fiercer , yet a judgment cold , And an immortal instinct which redeem'd The frailties of a heart so soft , yet bold , Alcides with the distaff now he seem'd 810 At Cleopatra's feet , and now ...
... less terrestrial mould , With passions fiercer , yet a judgment cold , And an immortal instinct which redeem'd The frailties of a heart so soft , yet bold , Alcides with the distaff now he seem'd 810 At Cleopatra's feet , and now ...
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Términos y frases comunes
15 cents Apollo Belvedere Arqua ashes Bards Battle of Pultowa beauty beneath Biographical Sketch blood breast breath brow Byron Cæsar cantos castle castle of Chillon chain Childe Harold Childe Harold's Pilgrimage Coliseum Cossacks Crown 8vo Dante dark dead death deep doth dread dungeon dust E. H. Coleridge earth effect English eternal eyes feel Florence foes gaze GEORGE HERBERT PALMER glory gray hath heart heaven Hetman Hobhouse hope hour hyæna immortal Italy Julius Cæsar King lake light limbs linen Literature Lord LORD BYRON Mazeppa mighty mind monarch mother mountains Napoleon night Note o'er ocean Petrarch poem poet Prisoner of Chillon Riverside Shakespeare Roman Rome round ruin seem'd seen shine shore soul spirit Stanza star steed Tasso tears thee thine thou thought tomb tree Ukraine Venice wall waters waves wild wind woes youth
Pasajes populares
Página 63 - The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war ; These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar.
Página 63 - Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since: their shores obey The stranger, slave, or savage; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts; — not so thou. Unchangeable save to thy wild waves
Página 74 - But knowing well captivity, Sweet bird, I could not wish for thine! Or if it were, in winged guise, A visitant from Paradise; For — Heaven forgive that thought! the while...
Página 64 - 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 — they to me Were a delight ; and if the freshening sea Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.
Página 62 - 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.
Página 49 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand ; his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low : And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him ; he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
Página 49 - Were with his heart, and that was far away ; He reck'd not of the life he lost nor prize, But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother — he, their sire, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday — All this rush'd with his blood — Shall he expire And unavenged? Arise! ye Goths, and glut your ire!
Página 28 - But Rome is as the desert, where we steer Stumbling o'er recollections: now we clap Our hands, and cry, " Eureka ! it is clear — " When but some false mirage of ruin rises near.
Página 74 - Ran over with the glad surprise, And they that moment could not see I was the mate of misery: But then by dull degrees came back My senses to their wonted track, I saw the dungeon walls and floor Close slowly round me as before...
Página 2 - 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!