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The Beauties of Byron,: Consisting of Selections from His Works
Alfred Howard,Baron George Gordon Byron Byron
No preview available - 2016
appear arms aspect aught bear beauty beneath better blood blue breast breath bright brow cheek dark dead death deep dread dream earth eternal face fair fall father fear feel fire flowers gaze gentle glance glow gone grave half hand hath head hear heart heaven hope hour knew land leaves less light lips living lone look meet mind mountains nature ne'er never night o'er once pale passed past pride rest roll rose round scarce seem'd seems seen shine shore sigh sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound spirit star stood sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought thousand turn twas voice walls waters wave weep wild wind wing young youth
Page 167 - 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 167 - But midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men, To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess, And roam along, the world's tired denizen, With none who bless us, none whom we can bless; Minions of splendour shrinking from distress ! None that, with kindred consciousness endued, If we were not, would seem to smile the less Of all that flattered, followed, sought and sued ; This is to be alone; this, this is solitude!
Page 195 - Cameron's gathering' rose! The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their...
Page 65 - The mountains look on Marathon, And Marathon looks on the sea. And musing there an hour alone, I dreamed that Greece might still be free, For standing on the Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave.
Page 85 - 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 wither'd and strown.
Page 49 - 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 : — All heaven and earth are still : — From the high host Of stars, to the lull'd lake and mountain-coast, All is concenter'd in a life intense, Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost, But hath a part of being, and a sense Of that which is of all Creator and defence, xc.
Page 148 - 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
Page 146 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar...
Page 67 - 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.