The works of lord Byron: with his letters and journals, and his life, by T. Moore, Band 12

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Seite 253 - The angels all were singing out of tune, And hoarse with having little else to do, Excepting to wind up the sun and moon, Or curb a runaway young star or two, Or wild colt of a comet, which too soon Broke out of bounds o'er the ethereal blue, Splitting some planet with its playful tail, As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale.
Seite 10 - 1 viso; Ma solo un punto fu quel che ci vinse. Quando leggemmo il disiato riso Esser baciato da cotanto amante , Questi , che mai da me non fia diviso , La bocca mi baciò tutto tremante. Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse; Quel giorno più non vi leggemmo avante.
Seite 22 - Fame! — if I e'er took delight in thy praises, 'Twas less for the sake of thy high-sounding phrases, Than to see the bright eyes of the dear one discover She thought that I was not unworthy to love her. There chiefly I sought thee, there only I found thee; Her glance was the best of the rays that surround thee; When it sparkled o'er aught that was bright in my story, I knew it was love, and I felt it was glory.
Seite 247 - ... footsteps, as with even tread He paced around his prison : not to him Did Nature's fair varieties exist ; He never saw the sun's delightful beams, Save when through yon high bars he pour'da sad And broken splendour.
Seite 258 - God save the king!" It is a large economy In God to save the like: but if he will Be saving, all the better; for not one am I Of those who think damnation better still...
Seite 21 - OH, talk not to me of a name great in story ; The days of our youth are the days of our glory ; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.
Seite 211 - Did clap their bloody hands. He nothing common did or mean Upon that memorable scene, But with his keener eye The axe's edge did try; Nor call'd the Gods, with vulgar spite, To vindicate his helpless right But bow'd his comely head Down, as upon a bed.
Seite 13 - Alone we were, and no Suspicion near us. Oft-times by that reading Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue Fled from our alter'd cheek.
Seite 213 - Slave, do thine office ! Strike as I struck the foe ! Strike as I would Have struck those tyrants ! Strike deep as my curse ! Strike — and but once ! [ The DOGE throws himself upon his knees, and as the Executioner raises his sword the scene closes.
Seite 17 - Sweet hour of twilight ! — in the solitude Of the pine forest, and the silent shore Which bounds Ravenna's immemorial wood...

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