Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt, Volume 1 |
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Page 48
scarce their mossy tombs remain ! "H . W . Williams ' s Travels in Greece , vol . ii .
p . 254 . ] 17 “ Some glorious thought to my petition grant . ” — MS . ] monkish
temples share The hours misspent , and all in 48 CANTO 1 . CHILDE HAROLD '
S.
scarce their mossy tombs remain ! "H . W . Williams ' s Travels in Greece , vol . ii .
p . 254 . ] 17 “ Some glorious thought to my petition grant . ” — MS . ] monkish
temples share The hours misspent , and all in 48 CANTO 1 . CHILDE HAROLD '
S.
Page 56
... that digs her own voluptuous tomb , Had buried long his hopes , no more to
rise : Pleasure ' s pall ' d victim ! life - abhorring gloom Wrote on his faded brow
curst Cain ' s unresting doom . LXXXIV . But view ' d them not with misanthropic
hate ...
... that digs her own voluptuous tomb , Had buried long his hopes , no more to
rise : Pleasure ' s pall ' d victim ! life - abhorring gloom Wrote on his faded brow
curst Cain ' s unresting doom . LXXXIV . But view ' d them not with misanthropic
hate ...
Page 57
... scarce a charm for me . It is that settled , ceaseless gloom The fabled Hebrew
wanderer bore ; That will not look beyond the tomb , But cannot hope for rest
before . 6 . What Exile from himself can flee ? 1 CANTO 1 . PILGRIMAGE . TO
INEZ. ...
... scarce a charm for me . It is that settled , ceaseless gloom The fabled Hebrew
wanderer bore ; That will not look beyond the tomb , But cannot hope for rest
before . 6 . What Exile from himself can flee ? 1 CANTO 1 . PILGRIMAGE . TO
INEZ. ...
Page 72
Almost all the chiefs became gods after their decease ; and he was indeed
neglected , who had not annual games near his tomb , or festivals in honour of
his memory by his countrymen , as Achilles , Brasidas , & c . , and at last even
Antinous ...
Almost all the chiefs became gods after their decease ; and he was indeed
neglected , who had not annual games near his tomb , or festivals in honour of
his memory by his countrymen , as Achilles , Brasidas , & c . , and at last even
Antinous ...
Page 103
Not such thy sons who whilome did await , The hopeless warriors of a willing
doom , In bleak Thermopylæ ' s sepulchral strait - Oh ! who that gallant spirit shall
resume , Leap from Eurotas ' banks , and call thee from the tomb ? LXXIV . Spirit
of ...
Not such thy sons who whilome did await , The hopeless warriors of a willing
doom , In bleak Thermopylæ ' s sepulchral strait - Oh ! who that gallant spirit shall
resume , Leap from Eurotas ' banks , and call thee from the tomb ? LXXIV . Spirit
of ...
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Common terms and phrases
ancient appear Athens bear beauty beneath blood breast called Canto character Childe church dark death deep earth fair fall fame feel fire foes French gaze give Greek hand Harold hath heard heart Heaven hills Historical honour hope hour Italy kind lake land late least leave less letter light live look Lord Lord Byron lost memory mind mother mountains Nature never o'er observed once pass perhaps plain poet present received remains rise rock Roman Rome round ruin says scene seems seen shore side song soul spirit stands Stanza stream tears temple thee thine things thou thought tomb traveller tree true turn Venice voice walls waters waves whole wild winds young
Popular passages
Page 245 - 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.
Page 127 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, — alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass...
Page 124 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gather'd 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!
Page 247 - 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.
Page 158 - Could I embody and unbosom now That which is most within me — could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings, strong or weak, All that I would have sought, and all I seek, Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe — into one word, And that one word were Lightning, I would speak ; But as it is, I live and die unheard, With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword.
Page 155 - The sky is changed ! — and such a change ! Oh night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder...
Page 230 - 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. He heard it, but he heeded not— his eyes Were with his heart, and that was far away...
Page 115 - 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.
Page 153 - 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 I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved. t-XXXVI. It is the hush of night...
Page 208 - Alas ! the lofty city ! and alas ! The trebly hundred triumphs ! and the day When Brutus made the dagger's edge surpass The conqueror's sword in bearing fame away ! Alas, for Tully's voice, and Virgil's lay, And Livy's pictured page ! — but these shall be Her resurrection • all beside — decay. Alas, for Earth, for never shall we see That brightness in her eye she bore when Rome was free...