Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A RomauntJ. Murray, 1859 - 329 pages |
From inside the book
Results 1-5 of 37
Page 24
... stands . 10 . With thee , my bark , I'll swiftly go Athwart the foaming brine ; Nor care what land thou bear'st me to , So not again to mine . Welcome , welcome , ye dark - blue waves ! And when you fail my sight , Welcome , ye deserts ...
... stands . 10 . With thee , my bark , I'll swiftly go Athwart the foaming brine ; Nor care what land thou bear'st me to , So not again to mine . Welcome , welcome , ye dark - blue waves ! And when you fail my sight , Welcome , ye deserts ...
Page 38
... stands , His blood - red tresses deep'ning in the sun , With death - shot glowing in his fiery hands , And that scorcheth all it glares upon ; eye Restless it rolls , now fix'd , and now anon Flashing afar , and at his iron feet ...
... stands , His blood - red tresses deep'ning in the sun , With death - shot glowing in his fiery hands , And that scorcheth all it glares upon ; eye Restless it rolls , now fix'd , and now anon Flashing afar , and at his iron feet ...
Page 56
... Stands in the centre , eager to invade The lord of lowing herds ; but not before The ground , with cautious tread , is traversed o'er , Lest aught unseen should lurk to thwart his speed : His arms a dart , he fights aloof , nor more Can ...
... Stands in the centre , eager to invade The lord of lowing herds ; but not before The ground , with cautious tread , is traversed o'er , Lest aught unseen should lurk to thwart his speed : His arms a dart , he fights aloof , nor more Can ...
Page 57
... stands the bull at bay , Mid wounds , and clinging darts , and lances brast , And foes disabled in the brutal fray : And now the Matadores around him play , Shake the I CANTO I. 57 CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE 30 LXXVI. ...
... stands the bull at bay , Mid wounds , and clinging darts , and lances brast , And foes disabled in the brutal fray : And now the Matadores around him play , Shake the I CANTO I. 57 CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE 30 LXXVI. ...
Page 75
... stand . XIV . Where was thine Egis , Pallas ! that appall'd Stern Alaric and Havoc on their way ? Where Peleus ' son ? whom Hell in vain enthrall'd , His shade from Hades upon that dread day Bursting to light in terrible array ! What ...
... stand . XIV . Where was thine Egis , Pallas ! that appall'd Stern Alaric and Havoc on their way ? Where Peleus ' son ? whom Hell in vain enthrall'd , His shade from Hades upon that dread day Bursting to light in terrible array ! What ...
Other editions - View all
Common terms and phrases
Acarnania Albania Albanian Ali Pacha ancient Athens aught Aventicum beauty beheld beneath blood bosom breast breath brow CANTO charms Childe Harold CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE clime dark deem'd deep desolate dome doth dread dust dwell earth Edinburgh Review Epirus fair fame fate feel foes gaze Giaours glory glow Greece Greeks hand hath heart Heaven honour hope hour immortal Italy J. W. Whymper lake land less live Lord Byron Mafra maid mighty mind mortal mountains Nature's ne'er never NEWSTEAD ABBEY o'er once Pacha pass'd passion Percival Skelton plain poem Pouqueville pride proud rock Romaic Roman Rome ruins S. C. Malan scatter'd scene shore shrine sigh skies slave smile song soul spirit spot stanzas star stern sweet tear temple thee thine things thou thought throne tomb Turks tyrants Venice walls waves wild wind woes youth
Popular passages
Page 259 - 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.
Page 279 - 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: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, •To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean— roll!
Page 134 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet.— But hark!
Page 167 - Clear, placid Leman ! thy contrasted lake, With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction ; once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a Sister's voice reproved, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
Page 279 - His steps are not upon thy paths, thy fields Are not a spoil for him, — thou dost arise And shake him from thee; the vile strength he wields For earth's destruction thou dost all despise, Spurning him from thy bosom to the skies, And send'st him, shivering in thy playful spray And howling, to his gods, where haply lies His pretty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth: — there let him lay.
Page 206 - Fill'd with the face of heaven, which, from afar, Comes down upon the waters ; all its hues, From the rich sunset to the rising star, Their magical variety diffuse : And now they change ; a paler shadow strews Its mantle o'er the mountains ; parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, The last still loveliest, till — 'tis gone — and all is gray.
Page 170 - Now, where the swift Rhone cleaves his way between Heights which appear as lovers who have parted In hate, whose mining depths so intervene, That they can meet no more, though broken-hearted ; Though in their souls, which thus each other thwarted, Love was the very root of the fond rage Which blighted their life's bloom, and then departed : Itself expired, but leaving them an age Of years all winters, — war within themselves to wage.
Page 203 - And slight withal may be the things which bring Back on the heart the weight which it would fling Aside for ever: it may be a sound — A tone of music, — summer's eve — or spring, A flower — the wind — the Ocean — which shall wound, Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound...
Page 137 - 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 mountain-pipe, so fill the mountaineers With the fierce native daring which instils The stirring memory of a thousand years, And Evan's, Donald's fame rings in each clansman's ears!
Page 168 - He is an evening reveller, who makes His life an infancy, and sings his fill; At intervals, some bird from out the brakes Starts into voice a moment, then is still. There seems a floating whisper on the hill, But that is fancy, for the starlight dews All silently their tears of love instil, Weeping themselves away, till they infuse Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues.