The works of lord Byron, Volume 1 |
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Page 147
Tis to create , and in creating live A being more intense , that we endow With form
our fancy , gaining as we give The life we image , even as I do now . What am I ?
Nothing ; but not so art thou , Soul of my thought ! with whom I traverse earth .
Tis to create , and in creating live A being more intense , that we endow With form
our fancy , gaining as we give The life we image , even as I do now . What am I ?
Nothing ; but not so art thou , Soul of my thought ! with whom I traverse earth .
Page 159
But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell , And there hath been thy bane ; there is a fire
And motion of the soul which will not dwell In its own narrow being , but aspire
Beyond the fitting medium of desire ; And , but once kindled , quenchless
evermore ...
But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell , And there hath been thy bane ; there is a fire
And motion of the soul which will not dwell In its own narrow being , but aspire
Beyond the fitting medium of desire ; And , but once kindled , quenchless
evermore ...
Page 178
With night , and clouds , and thunder , and a soul To make these felt and feeling ,
well may be Things that have made me watchful ; the far roll Of your departing
voices , is the knoll Of what in me is sleepless , - if I rest . But where of ye , oh ...
With night , and clouds , and thunder , and a soul To make these felt and feeling ,
well may be Things that have made me watchful ; the far roll Of your departing
voices , is the knoll Of what in me is sleepless , - if I rest . But where of ye , oh ...
Page 183
Italia ! too , Italia ! looking on thee , ull flashes on the soul the light of ages , Since
the fierce Carthaginian almost won thee , to the last halo of the chiefs and sages ,
Tamtho glorify thy consecrated pages ; s hou wert the throne and grave of ...
Italia ! too , Italia ! looking on thee , ull flashes on the soul the light of ages , Since
the fierce Carthaginian almost won thee , to the last halo of the chiefs and sages ,
Tamtho glorify thy consecrated pages ; s hou wert the throne and grave of ...
Page 183
Italia ! too , Italia ! looking on thee , Full flashes on the soul the light of ages ,
Since the fierce Carthaginian almost won thee , To the last halo of the chiefs and
sages , Who glorify thy consecrated pages ; Thou wert the throne and grave of ...
Italia ! too , Italia ! looking on thee , Full flashes on the soul the light of ages ,
Since the fierce Carthaginian almost won thee , To the last halo of the chiefs and
sages , Who glorify thy consecrated pages ; Thou wert the throne and grave of ...
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amongst ancient appear bear beauty beneath better blood breast breath called changed Childe church dark death deep earth edit fair fall fame feel foes French gaze give Greece Greek hand Harold hath heard heart heaven hills honour hope hour Italian Italy lake land late least leave less light live look Lord lost mark memory mind mortal mountains Nature never o'er observed once pass perhaps plain present rise rock Roman Rome round scene seems seen shore song soul spirit stand Stanza statue stream tears temple thee thine things thou thought tomb traveller tree true turn Venice voice walls waters waves whole wild winds young εις και το
Popular passages
Page 176 - All heaven and earth are still — though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most; And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep...
Page 151 - And there was mounting in hot haste : the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed. And swiftly forming in the ranks of war...
Page 260 - 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...
Page 262 - 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 151 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Page 59 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Page 262 - And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers — they to me Were a delight : and if the freshening sea Made them a terror — '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 176 - Uprear'd of human hands. Come and compare Columns and idol-dwellings, Goth or Greek, With Nature's realms of worship, earth and air, Nor fix on fond abodes to circumscribe thy prayer.
Page 153 - There have been tears and breaking hearts for thee, And mine were nothing, had I such to give ; But when I stood beneath the fresh green tree, Which living waves where thou didst cease to live, And saw around me the wide field revive With fruits and fertile promise, and the Spring Come forth her work of gladness to contrive, With all her reckless birds upon the wing, I turn'd from all she brought to those she could not bring.
Page 143 - 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.
Bibliographic information
| Title | The works of lord Byron, Volume 1 The works of lord Byron, George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) |
| Author | George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) |
| Published | 1820 |
| Original from | Oxford University |
| Digitized | 25 Sep 2006 |
| Export Citation | BiBTeX EndNote RefMan |