The Complete Works of Lord Byron: Reprinted from the Last London Ed. Containing, Besides the Notes and Illustrations by Moore, Walter Scott, Campbell &c., Considerable Additions and Original Notes. To which is Prefixed a Life by Thomas Moore
J. Baer, 1846
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appears arms bear beauty beneath better blood breast breath called cause chief Childe dare dark dead dear death deep Doge earth fair fall fame fear feel foes give Greek hand hath head hear heard heart heaven honour hope hour Italy lady land late least leave less light lines live look Lord Byron means meet mind mountains nature never night noble o'er once pass passion perhaps person poem poet present rest rise round scarce scene seems seen smile song soul sound speak spirit stand tears tell thee thine thing thou thought thousand true turn Venice verse voice wave whole wild wish written young youth
Seite 283 - And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent ! THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL SWEPT.
Seite 126 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet.— But hark!
Seite 162 - 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...
Seite 135 - Ye stars ! which are the poetry of heaven! If in your bright leaves we would read the fate Of men and empires, —'tis 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.
Seite 162 - 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...
Seite 162 - His steps are not upon thy paths— thy fields Are not a spoil for him— thou dost arise And shake him from thee ; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling, to his Gods, where haply lies His petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth — there let him lay.
Seite 163 - 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' play — Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow — Such as creation's dawn beheld thou rollest now.
Seite 158 - I see before me the Gladiator lie: He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his droop'd 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 hail'd the wretch who won.
Seite 126 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage-bell; But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!