The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals,John Murray, Albemarles Street., 1832 - Poets, English |
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Page 7
... productions of their illustrious bearers . With slight hopes , and some fears , I publish this first and last attempt . To the dictates of young ambition may be ascribed many actions more crimi- nal and B 4 PREFACE .
... productions of their illustrious bearers . With slight hopes , and some fears , I publish this first and last attempt . To the dictates of young ambition may be ascribed many actions more crimi- nal and B 4 PREFACE .
Page 18
... fear , that excites his regret ; Far distant he goes , with the same emulation , The fame of his fathers he ne'er can forget . That fame , and that memory , still will he cherish ; He vows that he ne'er will disgrace your renown : Like ...
... fear , that excites his regret ; Far distant he goes , with the same emulation , The fame of his fathers he ne'er can forget . That fame , and that memory , still will he cherish ; He vows that he ne'er will disgrace your renown : Like ...
Page 21
... fears , Parch'd to the throat my tongue adheres , My pulse beats quick , my breath heaves short , My limbs deny their slight support , Cold dews my pallid face o'erspread , With deadly languor droops my head , My ears with tingling ...
... fears , Parch'd to the throat my tongue adheres , My pulse beats quick , my breath heaves short , My limbs deny their slight support , Cold dews my pallid face o'erspread , With deadly languor droops my head , My ears with tingling ...
Page 22
... fear , no wild alarm he knew , But lightly o'er her bosom mov'd : And softly fluttering here and there , He never sought to cleave the air , But chirupp'd oft , and , free from care , Tuned to her ear his grateful strain . Now having ...
... fear , no wild alarm he knew , But lightly o'er her bosom mov'd : And softly fluttering here and there , He never sought to cleave the air , But chirupp'd oft , and , free from care , Tuned to her ear his grateful strain . Now having ...
Page 26
... fear ? " I heard his seeming artless tale , I heard his sighs upon the gale : My breast was never pity's foe , But felt for all the baby's woe . I drew the bar , and by the light Young Love , the infant , met my sight ; His bow across ...
... fear ? " I heard his seeming artless tale , I heard his sighs upon the gale : My breast was never pity's foe , But felt for all the baby's woe . I drew the bar , and by the light Young Love , the infant , met my sight ; His bow across ...
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Common terms and phrases
ANACREON bard beauty behold beneath blast bless blest bliss bosom breast Calmar Capel Lofft CATULLUS dare dark dead dear death delight dream Dunciad e'en Edinburgh Review edition expire eyes fair fame fate father fear feel flame foes folly fond forget Friendship genius glory glow grave Harrow heart heaven heroes honour hope hour kiss lady lines live Lochlin Lord Byron Lord Carlisle Lord Henry Petty love's last adieu lyre Mathon mind Moore muse ne'er never Newstead Newstead Abbey night Nisus and Euryalus noble numbers o'er once Orla Oscar passion perchance poem poet praise pride Probus published remembrance rhyme rise roll satire scene shade sigh sire sleep smile song soothe soul stanzas strain sweet tears thee thine thou throng tomb translation truth twill verse wave weep wings wonted written young youth
Popular passages
Page 294 - By nature vile, ennobled but by name, Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame. Ye ! who perchance behold this simple urn, Pass on — it honours none you wish to mourn : To mark a friend's remains these stones arise ; I never knew but one, — and here he lies.
Page 239 - Who, both by precept and example, shows That prose is verse, and verse is merely prose...
Page 176 - And I said, Oh that I had wings like a dove ! for then would I fly away, and be at rest.
Page 293 - But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend, The first to welcome, foremost to defend, Whose honest heart is still his master's own, Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone, Unhonoured falls, unnoticed all his worth, Denied in heaven the soul he held on earth: While man, vain insect!
Page 217 - START not — nor deem my spirit fled : In me behold the only skull, From which, unlike a living head, Whatever flows is never dull. I lived, I loved, I quaff'd, like thee ; I died : let earth my bones resign : Fill up — thou canst not injure me ; The worm hath fouler lips than thine. » Better to hold the sparkling grape, Than nurse the earth-worm's slimy brood ; And circle in the goblet's shape The drink of Gods, than reptile's food. Where once my wit, perchance, hath shone, In aid of others...
Page 229 - twill pass for wit ; Care not for feeling — pass your proper jest, And stand a critic, hated yet caress'd. And shall we own such judgment ? No: as soon Seek roses in December — ice in June ; Hope constancy in wind, or corn in chaff; Believe a woman or an epitaph, Or any other thing that's false, before You trust in critics, who themselves are sore ; Or yield one single thought to be misled By Jeffrey's heart, or Lambe's Boeotian head.
Page 291 - I kiss'd it for its mother's sake. I kiss'd it, — and repress'd my sighs Its father in its face to see : But then it had its mother's eyes, And they were all to love and me. Mary, adieu ! I must away : While thou art blest I'll not repine ; But near thee I can never stay ; My heart would soon again be thine. I deem'd that time, I deem'd that pride, Had quench'd at length my boyish flame ; Nor knew, till seated by thy side, My heart in all — save hope — the same.
Page 239 - Next comes the dull disciple of thy school, That mild apostate from poetic rule, The simple Wordsworth, framer of a lay As soft as evening in his favourite May, Who warns his friend 'to shake off toil and trouble, And quit his books, for fear of growing double...
Page 171 - Our union would have healed feuds in which blood had been shed by our fathers, it would have joined lands broad and rich, it would have joined at least one heart, and two persons not ill matched in years (she is two years my elder), and — and — and — what has been the result?
Page 188 - THE poesy of this young lord belongs to the class which neither gods nor men are said to permit Indeed, we do not recollect to have seen a quantity of verse with so few deviations in either direction from that exact standard. His effusions are spread over a dead flat, and can no more get above or below the level, than if they were so much stagnant water.