Selections from the Poetry of Lord Byron |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 46
Page xlvi
Thus , in his description of the Lake of Nemi , 3 he writes : “ Calm as cherish ' d
hate , its surface wears A deep cold settled aspect nought can shake , All coil ' d
into itself and round , as sleeps the snake . ” IX In conclusion we are led to ask ...
Thus , in his description of the Lake of Nemi , 3 he writes : “ Calm as cherish ' d
hate , its surface wears A deep cold settled aspect nought can shake , All coil ' d
into itself and round , as sleeps the snake . ” IX In conclusion we are led to ask ...
Page 11
On sloping mounds , or in the vale beneath , Are domes where whilome kings did
make repair : But now the wild flowers round them only breathe ; Yet ruin ' d
splendor still is lingering there , And yonder towers the Prince ' s palace fair :
There ...
On sloping mounds , or in the vale beneath , Are domes where whilome kings did
make repair : But now the wild flowers round them only breathe ; Yet ruin ' d
splendor still is lingering there , And yonder towers the Prince ' s palace fair :
There ...
Page 15
Till others fall where other chieftains lead , Thy name shall circle round the
gaping throng , And shine in worthless lays , the theme of transient song . XLIV .
Enough of Battle ' s minions ! let CHILDE HAROLD ' S PILGRIMAGE 15.
Till others fall where other chieftains lead , Thy name shall circle round the
gaping throng , And shine in worthless lays , the theme of transient song . XLIV .
Enough of Battle ' s minions ! let CHILDE HAROLD ' S PILGRIMAGE 15.
Page 16
... s clarion , but Love ' s rebeck sounds ; Here Folly still his votaries enthralls ,
And young - eyed Lewdness walks her midnight rounds : Girt with the silent
crimes of Capitals , Still to the last kind Vice clings to the tottering walls . XLVII .
He lurks ...
... s clarion , but Love ' s rebeck sounds ; Here Folly still his votaries enthralls ,
And young - eyed Lewdness walks her midnight rounds : Girt with the silent
crimes of Capitals , Still to the last kind Vice clings to the tottering walls . XLVII .
He lurks ...
Page 21
... bear ; Yield me one leaf of Daphne ' s deathless plant , Nor let thy votary ' s
hope be deem ' d an idle vaunt . - LXIV . But ne ' er didst thou , fair Mount ! when
Greece was young , See round thy giant base a brighter choir ; Nor e ' er did ...
... bear ; Yield me one leaf of Daphne ' s deathless plant , Nor let thy votary ' s
hope be deem ' d an idle vaunt . - LXIV . But ne ' er didst thou , fair Mount ! when
Greece was young , See round thy giant base a brighter choir ; Nor e ' er did ...
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Abbot appear bear beautiful beneath blood breast breath bright Byron canto Childe Harold clouds cold dark dead death deep died dread dream dwell earth effect eternal eyes face fair fall fear feel gaze give grave hand hath head heart heaven hope hour human Italy Juan land leaves less letter light live look Lord Manfred mind mortal mountains nature never night o'er once pass passion past perhaps poem poet poetry present rest rise rock round scene seen sense shore song soul sound spirit stand stanzas stars sweet tears thee thine things thou thought Twas verse voice walls waters waves whole wild wind writes written young youth
Popular passages
Page 153 - 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 153 - Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests: in all time, Calm or convulsed — in breeze, or gale, or storm. Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark-heaving; — boundless, endless, and sublime; The image of eternity, the throne Of the Invisible: even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Page 303 - My days are in the yellow leaf; The flowers and fruits of love are gone; The worm, the canker, and the grief Are mine alone! The fire that on my bosom preys Is lone as some volcanic isle; No torch is kindled at its blaze — A funeral pile. The hope, the fear, the jealous care, The exalted portion of the pain And power of love, I cannot share, But wear the chain.
Page 128 - There is the moral of all human tales; 'Tis but the same rehearsal of the past, First Freedom, and then Glory — when that fails, Wealth, vice, corruption, — barbarism at last. And History, with all her volumes vast, Hath but one page...
Page 263 - 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 ! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set. The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Have found the fame your shores refuse ; Their place of birth alone is mute To sounds which echo further west Than your sires'
Page 264 - 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 ! And must thy lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine?
Page 246 - Louder than the loud ocean, like a crash Of echoing thunder; and then all was hush'd, Save the wild wind and the remorseless dash Of billows; but at intervals there gush'd, Accompanied with a convulsive splash, A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry Of some strong swimmer in his agony.
Page 296 - She walks in beauty like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies ; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes ; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
Page 266 - But words are things ; and a small drop of ink, Falling, like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions think...
Page 291 - These scenes, their story not unknown, Arise, and make again your own; Snatch from the ashes of your sires The embers of their former fires; And he who in the strife expires Will add to theirs a name of fear That Tyranny shall quake to hear...
Bibliographic information
| Title | Selections from the Poetry of Lord Byron English readings |
| Author | George Gordon Byron Baron Byron |
| Editor | Frederic Ives Carpenter |
| Publisher | H. Holt, 1900 |
| Original from | Harvard University |
| Digitized | 27 Feb 2008 |
| Length | 412 pages |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |