The complete works of lord Byron with a biogr. and critical notice by J. W. Lake, Volumes 1-2 |
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Page xxxii
Their praise is hymn ' d by loftier harps than mine ; Yet one I would select from
that proud throng , Partly because they blend me with his line , And partly that I
did his ' sire some wrong , And partly that bright names will hallow song ; And his
...
Their praise is hymn ' d by loftier harps than mine ; Yet one I would select from
that proud throng , Partly because they blend me with his line , And partly that I
did his ' sire some wrong , And partly that bright names will hallow song ; And his
...
Page lii
Before I enter into the painfully interesting details of the last and glorious acts of
Byron ' s existence , when , « in the rich summer of his life and song , » he
devoted himself and fortune to the noblest of enterprises — the deliverance of
Greece , I ...
Before I enter into the painfully interesting details of the last and glorious acts of
Byron ' s existence , when , « in the rich summer of his life and song , » he
devoted himself and fortune to the noblest of enterprises — the deliverance of
Greece , I ...
Page lviii
The following drinking song is stated to have been composed by Lord Byron after
one of his dinner parties : Fill the goblet again ! for I never before Felt the glow
that now gladdens my heart to its core : Let us drink - - who would not ? since ...
The following drinking song is stated to have been composed by Lord Byron after
one of his dinner parties : Fill the goblet again ! for I never before Felt the glow
that now gladdens my heart to its core : Let us drink - - who would not ? since ...
Page lxxxv
With what emotion will she one day peruse the following lines : « My daughter !
with thy name this song begunMy daughter ! with thy name thus much shall end
— I see thee not , I hear thee not , — but none Can be so wrapt in thee ; thou art ...
With what emotion will she one day peruse the following lines : « My daughter !
with thy name this song begunMy daughter ! with thy name thus much shall end
— I see thee not , I hear thee not , — but none Can be so wrapt in thee ; thou art ...
Page xcvi
The hymn , or heroic song ( pp . 184 to 188 , vol . 2 ) , is one of the very finest
things , of its kind , of modern poetry . It is full of vigour of thought and of
expression : a fine classical feeling pervades the whole , and the conclusion is
perfectly ...
The hymn , or heroic song ( pp . 184 to 188 , vol . 2 ) , is one of the very finest
things , of its kind , of modern poetry . It is full of vigour of thought and of
expression : a fine classical feeling pervades the whole , and the conclusion is
perfectly ...
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appear arms bear beautiful beneath better blood breast breath Byron canto cause Childe dark dead death deep doubt earth eyes face fact fair fall fame feelings fire gaze give glory Greek half hand hath head heard heart heaven hope hour human Italy Juan kind knew lady land late least leave less light live look Lord master mean mind mortal mountains nature never night Note o'er once pass passion perhaps poet present rest round scarce scene seems seen shore song soul speak spirit stand stanza strange sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought true turn walls waves whole wind wish young
Popular passages
Page 183 - 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 ! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!
Page 166 - He who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow; He who surpasses or subdues mankind, Must look down on the hate of those below. Though high above the sun of glory glow, And far beneath the earth and ocean spread, Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow Contending tempests on his naked head, And thus reward the toils which to those summits led.
Page 183 - Must we but blush? Our fathers bled. Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three To make a new Thermopylae ! 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!
Page 185 - Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! Our virgins dance beneath the shade — I see their glorious black eyes shine; But gazing on each glowing maid, My own the burning tear-drop laves, To think such breasts must suckle slaves. Place me on Sunium's marbled steep, Where nothing, save the waves and I, May hear our mutual murmurs sweep; There, swan-like, let me sing and die: A land of slaves shall ne'er be mine— Dash down yon cup of Samian wine!
Page 272 - 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 ! CLXXXIII.
Page 170 - The castled crag of Drachenfels Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine, And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, And fields which promise corn and wine, And scatter'd cities crowning these, Whose far white walls along them shine, Have strew'da scene, •which I should see With double joy wert thou with me.
Page 237 - The very sepulchres lie tenantless Of their heroic dwellers : dost thou flow, Old Tiber ! through a marble wilderness ? Rise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress ! LXXX.
Page 185 - Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! On Suli's rock, and Parga's shore, Exists the remnant of a line Such as the Doric mothers bore; And there, perhaps, some seed is sown, The Heracleidan blood might own.
Page 158 - 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!
Page 191 - Ave Maria ! blessed be the hour ! The time, the clime, the spot, where I so oft Have felt that moment in its fullest power Sink o'er the earth so beautiful and soft, While swung the deep bell in the distant tower. Or the faint dying day-hymn stole aloft, And not a breath crept through the rosy air, And yet the forest leaves seem'd stirr'd with prayer.
Bibliographic information
| Title | The complete works of lord Byron with a biogr. and critical notice by J. W. Lake, Volumes 1-2 The complete works of lord Byron with a biogr. and critical notice by J. W. Lake, George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) |
| Author | George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) |
| Published | 1825 |
| Original from | Oxford University |
| Digitized | 21 Jun 2007 |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |