The works of lord Byron, comprehending the suppressed poems, Svazky 7–8 |
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Antonia appear'd Baba beautiful blood boat Bosphorus breast breath Cadiz call'd CANTO charm cheek CIII dead death deep devil Don Alfonso Don Juan Donna Inez doubt e'er earth eunuch eyes face fair fame father's feelings flash'd GALIGNANI gazed giaour gold grew Gulleyaz Haidee Haidée's hair half hand heart heaven Hellespont hope hour human clay Juan's Julia kiss knew lady least leave lips look look'd LORD BYRON lover maid mistress moon moral mother Muse ne'er never night Noah's ark o'er ocean pair pale Parnassian pass'd passion Pedrillo perhaps poets pray renegado rhymes round Samian wine Sappho scarce seem'd sherbet shore sigh sire slaves sleep smile song soul Spain stanza stood strange tears tell There's things third sex thou thought true turn'd Twas waves whate'er wife wind wine words youth Zoë
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Strana 45 - The isles of Greece ! the isles of Greece ! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
Strana 47 - What silent still? and silent all? Ah ! no ; — the voices of the dead Sound like a distant torrent's fall, And answer, "Let one living head, But one arise, — we come, we come!
Strana 60 - Soft hour ! which wakes the wish and melts the heart Of those who sail the seas, on the first day When they from their sweet friends are torn apart ; Or fills with love the pilgrim on his way, As the far bell of vesper makes him start, Seeming to weep the dying day's decay;* — Is this a fancy which our reason scorns 1 Ah ! surely nothing dies but something mourns.
Strana 50 - But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think...
Strana 49 - Trust not for freedom to the Franks, — They have a king who buys and sells : In native swords, and native ranks, The only hope of courage dwells ; But Turkish force, and Latin fraud, Would break your shield, however broad.
Strana 45 - Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave. A king sate on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis; And ships by thousands lay below, And men in nations; — all were his! He counted them at break of day, And when the sun set, where were they?
Strana 46 - And where are they? and where art thou, My country? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now — The heroic bosom beats no more!
Strana 54 - Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw near home; 'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark Our coming, and look brighter when we come...
Strana 3 - I WANT a hero: an uncommon want, When every year and month sends forth a new one Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant, The age discovers he is not the true one...
Strana 179 - A long, long kiss, a kiss of youth, and love, And beauty, all concentrating like rays Into one focus, kindled from above; Such kisses as belong to early days, Where heart, and soul, and sense, in concert move, And the blood's lava, and the pulse a blaze, Each kiss a heart-quake, — for a kiss's strength, I think it must be reckon'd by its length.