Childe Harold's pilgrimage, The giaour, The siege of Corinth [and other poems]. |
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Página 12
A few short hours and he will rise To give the morrow birth ; And I shall hail the main and skies , But not my mother earth . Deserted is my own good hall , Its hearth is desolate ; Wild weeds are gathering on the wall ; My dog howls at ...
A few short hours and he will rise To give the morrow birth ; And I shall hail the main and skies , But not my mother earth . Deserted is my own good hall , Its hearth is desolate ; Wild weeds are gathering on the wall ; My dog howls at ...
Página 19
Or dark Sierras rise in craggy pride ? Or fence of art , like China's vasty wall ? Ne barrier wall , ne river deep and wide , Ne horrid crags , nor mountains dark and tall , Rise like the rocks that part Hispania's land from Gaul ...
Or dark Sierras rise in craggy pride ? Or fence of art , like China's vasty wall ? Ne barrier wall , ne river deep and wide , Ne horrid crags , nor mountains dark and tall , Rise like the rocks that part Hispania's land from Gaul ...
Página 24
The rise of rapine and the fall of Spain ? And doth the power that man adores ordain Their doom , nor heed the suppliant's appeal ? Is all that desperate valour acts in vain ? And counsel sage , and patriotic zeal , The veteran's skill ...
The rise of rapine and the fall of Spain ? And doth the power that man adores ordain Their doom , nor heed the suppliant's appeal ? Is all that desperate valour acts in vain ? And counsel sage , and patriotic zeal , The veteran's skill ...
Página 27
4 But Cadiz , rising ... hither deign'd to flee ; And fix'd her shrine within these walls of white : Though not to one dome circumscribeth she Her worship , but , devoted to her rite , A thousand altars rise , for ever blazing bright .
4 But Cadiz , rising ... hither deign'd to flee ; And fix'd her shrine within these walls of white : Though not to one dome circumscribeth she Her worship , but , devoted to her rite , A thousand altars rise , for ever blazing bright .
Página 29
All have their fooleries — not alike are thine , Fair Cadiz , rising o'er the dark blue sea ! Soon as the matin bell proclaimeth nine , Thy saint adorers count the rosary : Much is the Virgin teased to shrive them free ( Well do I ween ...
All have their fooleries — not alike are thine , Fair Cadiz , rising o'er the dark blue sea ! Soon as the matin bell proclaimeth nine , Thy saint adorers count the rosary : Much is the Virgin teased to shrive them free ( Well do I ween ...
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, the Giaour, the Siege of Corinth [And Other Poems] George Gordon N Byron Sin vista previa disponible - 2016 |
Términos y frases comunes
appear arms bear beauty beneath better blood breast breath brow called chief Childe Christian dark dead death deep died earth face fair fall fame fear feel fell fire foes gaze give grave Greek half hand hath head heard heart heaven hills hope hour Italy land late least leaves less light live look lost mind mountains nature never night Note o'er once Page pain pass past present rest rise rock Roman round scarce scene seems seen shore side sight smile song soul sound spirit stand Stanza stood tears tell thee thine things thou thought thousand tomb true turn voice walls waters wave wild wind young
Pasajes populares
Página 470 - And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord ! A SPIRIT PASS'D BEFORE ME.
Página 469 - 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.
Página 119 - 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!
Página 102 - Last eve in beauty's circle proudly gay ; The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms — the day Battle's magnificently stern array ! The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent The earth is covered thick with other clay, Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent, Rider and horse — friend, foe, — in one red burial blent...
Página 153 - Rome ! my country ! city of the soul! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, Ye ! Whose agonies are evils of a day — A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; An empty urn within her...
Página 100 - As if the clouds its echo would repeat; And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before ! Arm! Arm! it is! — it is! — the cannon's opening roar!
Página 100 - 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 Blush'd 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...
Página 225 - Appals the gazing mourner's heart, As if to him it could impart The doom he dreads, yet dwells upon ; Yes, but for these, and these alone, Some moments, ay, one treacherous hour, He still might doubt the tyrant's power ; So fair, so calm, so softly seal'd, The first, last look by death reveal'd...
Página 178 - Oh! that the Desert were my dwelling-place, With one fair Spirit for my minister, That I might all forget the human race, And, hating no one, love but only her ! Ye elements ! — in whose ennobling stir I feel myself exalted — can ye not Accord me such a being?
Página 106 - 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.
Información bibliográfica
| Título | Childe Harold's pilgrimage, The giaour, The siege of Corinth [and other poems]. |
| Autor | George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) |
| Publicado | 1832 |
| Procedencia del original | Universidad de Oxford |
| Digitalizado | 20 Jun. 2007 |
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