The works of lord Byron, Volumen1 |
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Página 12
... stood- Why looks he o'er the olive wood ? The crescent glimmers on the hill , The Mosque's high lamps are quivering still : Though too remote for sound to wake In echoes of the far tophaike , ( 8 ) The flashes of each joyous peal Are ...
... stood- Why looks he o'er the olive wood ? The crescent glimmers on the hill , The Mosque's high lamps are quivering still : Though too remote for sound to wake In echoes of the far tophaike , ( 8 ) The flashes of each joyous peal Are ...
Página 12
... stood- Why looks he o'er the olive wood ? The crescent glimmers on the hill , The Mosque's high lamps are quivering still : Though too remote for sound to wake In echoes of the far tophaike , ( 8 ) The flashes of each joyous peal Are ...
... stood- Why looks he o'er the olive wood ? The crescent glimmers on the hill , The Mosque's high lamps are quivering still : Though too remote for sound to wake In echoes of the far tophaike , ( 8 ) The flashes of each joyous peal Are ...
Página 13
... stood , Then sped as if by death pursued ; But in that instant o'er his soul Winters of Memory seem'd to roll , And gather in that drop of time A life of pain , an age of crime . VOL . II . C O'er him who loves , or hates , or fears THE ...
... stood , Then sped as if by death pursued ; But in that instant o'er his soul Winters of Memory seem'd to roll , And gather in that drop of time A life of pain , an age of crime . VOL . II . C O'er him who loves , or hates , or fears THE ...
Página 21
... stood , Which totters o'er the fiery flood , With Paradise within my view , And all his Houris beckoning through . Oh ! who young Leila's glance could read And keep that portion of his creed ( 22 ) Which saith that woman is but dust , A ...
... stood , Which totters o'er the fiery flood , With Paradise within my view , And all his Houris beckoning through . Oh ! who young Leila's glance could read And keep that portion of his creed ( 22 ) Which saith that woman is but dust , A ...
Página 22
... stood , And few return'd to tell the tale Of what befell in Parne's vale . The pistols which his girdle bore Were those that once a pasha wore , Which still , though gemm'd and boss'd with gold , Even robbers tremble to behold . ' Tis ...
... stood , And few return'd to tell the tale Of what befell in Parne's vale . The pistols which his girdle bore Were those that once a pasha wore , Which still , though gemm'd and boss'd with gold , Even robbers tremble to behold . ' Tis ...
Términos y frases comunes
accents Amaun apostolic palace arms band beneath Beppo blood Bonnivard bosom breast breath brow call'd calpac Cavalier Servente cheek Conrad dare dark dead death deed deep despair doom dread dream earth faithless fate fear feel fell fix'd foes gaze Giaffir Giaour glance grave grief Gulnare hand Haram hate hath head heard heart heaven Hellespont hope horsetails hour Houris knew Lara Lara's light limbs lips lonely look look'd Mazeppa Moslem Mussulman ne'er never night Note nought numbers o'er once Pacha pale Parisina pass'd perchance pride rest rose round scarce seem'd Selim she-the shore sigh silent sire slave smile sooth soul sound stamp'd steed stern stood strife tale tears tell thee thine thou thought Timariot turban Turkish turn'd Twas Venice voice wall wave Whate'er wild wind words wound youth Zuleika
Pasajes populares
Página 321 - But in it there were three tall trees, And o'er it blew the mountain breeze, And by it there were waters flowing, And on it there were young flowers growing Of gentle breath and hue.
Página 318 - A light broke in upon my brain, — It was the carol of a bird; It ceased, and then it came again, The sweetest song ear ever heard, And mine was thankful till my eyes Ran over with the glad surprise, And they that moment could not see I was the mate of misery.
Página 321 - It might be months, or years, or days, I kept no count, I took no note, I had no hope my eyes to raise, And clear them of their dreary mote...
Página 307 - ETERNAL spirit of the chainless mind ! Brightest in dungeons, Liberty, thou art ! For there thy habitation is the heart, — The heart which love of thee alone can bind ; And when thy sons to fetters are consigned, — To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind.
Página 309 - MY hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears :+ My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's spoil, And mine has been the fate of those To whom the goodly earth and air Are bann'd, and barr'd — forbidden fare...
Página 315 - Most cherish'd since his natal hour, His mother's image in fair face. The infant love of all his race.
Página 93 - SLOW sinks, more lovely ere his race be run,' Along Morea's hills the setting sun ; Not, as in Northern climes, obscurely bright, But one unclouded blaze of living light ! O'er the hush'd deep the yellow beam he throws, Gilds the green wave, that trembles as it glows.
Página 315 - Oh, God ! it is a fearful thing To see the human soul take wing In any shape, in any mood...