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... dark • I saw thee weep Thy days are done It is the hour • Song of Saul before his last battle Saul • “ All is vanity , saith the preacher ” When coldness wraps PAGE 5 11 12 13 15 17 19 21 23 2228 8 8 24 26 28 30 Vision of Belshazzar 33 ...
... dark • I saw thee weep Thy days are done It is the hour • Song of Saul before his last battle Saul • “ All is vanity , saith the preacher ” When coldness wraps PAGE 5 11 12 13 15 17 19 21 23 2228 8 8 24 26 28 30 Vision of Belshazzar 33 ...
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... climes and starry skies ; And all that's best of dark and bright eyes : Meet in her aspect and her Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies . II . One shade the more , one ray the B 2 She walks in beauty.
... climes and starry skies ; And all that's best of dark and bright eyes : Meet in her aspect and her Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies . II . One shade the more , one ray the B 2 She walks in beauty.
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... heeds nor hears distress : Will this unteach us to complain ? Or make one mourner weep the less ? And thou - who tell'st me to forget , Thy looks are wan , thine eyes are wet . MY SOUL IS DARK . I. MY SOUL IS DARK 16 HEBREW MELODIES .
... heeds nor hears distress : Will this unteach us to complain ? Or make one mourner weep the less ? And thou - who tell'st me to forget , Thy looks are wan , thine eyes are wet . MY SOUL IS DARK . I. MY SOUL IS DARK 16 HEBREW MELODIES .
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George Gordon Byron Baron Byron. MY SOUL IS DARK . I. MY SOUL IS DARK - Oh ! quickly string The harp I yet can brook to hear ; And let thy gentle fingers fling Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear . If in this heart a hope be dear , That ...
George Gordon Byron Baron Byron. MY SOUL IS DARK . I. MY SOUL IS DARK - Oh ! quickly string The harp I yet can brook to hear ; And let thy gentle fingers fling Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear . If in this heart a hope be dear , That ...
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... And in the Heaven that clear obscure , So softly dark , and darkly pure , That follows the decline of day As twilight melts beneath the moon away . SONG OF SAUL BEFORE HIS LAST BATTLE . I. WARRIORS HEBREW MELODIES . 23 It is the hour.
... And in the Heaven that clear obscure , So softly dark , and darkly pure , That follows the decline of day As twilight melts beneath the moon away . SONG OF SAUL BEFORE HIS LAST BATTLE . I. WARRIORS HEBREW MELODIES . 23 It is the hour.
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Common terms and phrases
behold beneath blood Bonnivard bosom breast breath bright brow Chillon cloud cold Corinth dark Darvell dead death deed deep doom doth dream dungeon earth eternal eyes falchions fame fear feel fell felt gazed Geneve glance glory grave Greece grew hand hath heard heart heaven Hetman hill hope hour knew light limbs look LORD BYRON maid Mariamne Mazeppa Minotti monarch Moslem ne'er never night nought numbers o'er pain Parisina pass'd POEM PRISONER OF CHILLON rolls Romania rose round sate scarce seem'd shines shone shore SIEGE OF CORINTH sigh silent SIR PETER PARKER sire sleep smile song soul sound spirit stars steed stone stood sweet sword tears thee thine things thou art thought thousand turban Turcoman Twas Venice voice wall wandered waves weep wept wild winds wished for wings withered
Popular passages
Page 4 - To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar — for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard ! — May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
Page 46 - The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
Page 4 - 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.
Page 47 - Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, That host with their banners at sunset were seen; Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown. For the angel of death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he pass'd; And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill, And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still...
Page 49 - Though thy slumber may be deep, Yet thy spirit shall not sleep, There are shades which will not vanish, There are thoughts thou canst not banish...
Page 14 - Was as a mockery of the tomb, Whose tints as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray ; An eye of most transparent light, That almost made the dungeon bright, And not a word of murmur, not A groan o'er his untimely lot, — A little talk of better days, A little hope my own...
Page 52 - TITAN ! to whose immortal eyes The sufferings of mortality, Seen in their sad reality, Were not as things that gods despise ; What was thy pity's recompense ? A silent suffering, and intense ; The rock, the vulture, and the chain, All that the proud can feel of pain...
Page 38 - The dread of vanish'd shadows. Are they so ? Is not the past all shadow ! What are they ' Creations of the mind ? The mind can make Substance, and people planets of its own With beings brighter than have been, — and give A breath to forms which can outlive all flesh.
Page 37 - A thousand horse, and none to ride ! With flowing tail, and flying mane, Wide nostrils never...
Page 40 - Which colour'd all his objects:— he had ceased To live within himself; she was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all: upon a tone, A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow, And his cheek change tempestuously— his heart Unknowing of its cause of agony. But she in these fond feelings had no share: Her sighs were not for him; to her he was Even as a brother— but no more...