Comentarios de la gente - Escribir un comentario
No encontramos ningún comentario en los lugares habituales.
Otras ediciones - Ver todas
The Works of Lord Byron: With an Introduction and Bibliography
George Gordon Byron
Vista previa limitada - 1994
amongst ancient appear Athens bear beautiful beneath better blood breast breath called changed chief Childe dark death deep dust earth fair fall fame feel foes French gaze give Greece Greeks ground hand Harold hath heard heart heaven hills honour hope hour human Italy lake land late least leave less light live look Lord lost mind mortal mountains Nature never night o'er observed once pass passion perhaps plain present proud rise rock Romaic Roman ruins scene seems seen shore smile song soul spirit stands Stanza tears thee thine things thou thought tomb tree true turn Venice voice walls waters waves wild wind woes young youth δεν εις και την το
Página 155 - 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 207 - I STOOD in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs, A palace and a prison on each hand ; I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Página 216 - The moon is up, and yet it is not night — Sunset divides the sky with her — a sea Of glory streams along the Alpine height Of blue Friuli's mountains ; heaven is free From clouds, but of all colours seems to be Melted to one vast Iris of the West, Where the day joins the past Eternity; While, on the other hand, meek Dian's crest Floats through the azure air — an island of the blest...
Página 173 - I live not in myself, but I become Portion of that around me; and to me, High mountains are a feeling, but the hum Of human cities torture...
Página 174 - Are not the mountains, waves, and skies, a part Of me and of my soul, as I of them?
Página 251 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony ; And his droop'd head sinks gradually low ; And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder shower ; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hail'd the wretch who won.
Página 166 - The castled crag of Drachenfels Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine, And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, And fields which promise corn and wine, And scatter'd cities crowning these, Whose far white walls along them shine, Have strew'da scene, which I should see With double joy wert thou with me.
Página 253 - But when the rising moon begins to climb Its topmost arch, and gently pauses there; When the stars twinkle through the loops of time, And the low night-breeze waves along the air The...
Página 179 - Then stirs the feeling infinite, so felt In solitude, where we are least alone ; A truth, which through our being then doth melt, And purifies from self : it is a tone, The soul and source of music, which makes known Eternal harmony, and sheds a charm} Like to the fabled Cytherea's zone, Binding all things with beauty;— 'twould disarm The spectre Death, had he substantial power to harm.
Página 181 - Sky, mountains, river, winds, lake, lightnings! ye, 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, O tempests! is the goal? Are ye like those within the human breast? Or do ye find at length, like eagles, some high nest?