Selected Poems of Lord ByronT. Y. Crowell & Company, 1893 - 279 pages |
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Page iii
... as " Sir John the Little with the Great Beard , " who at the dissolution of the monas- teries received from Henry VIII . the church and priory of Newstead . The poet had no great reason for pride in this iii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.
... as " Sir John the Little with the Great Beard , " who at the dissolution of the monas- teries received from Henry VIII . the church and priory of Newstead . The poet had no great reason for pride in this iii BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.
Page iv
... poet's grandfather , became an admiral , and wrote a spirited but somewhat dubious account of his luckless adventures , while the eldest in- herited the title , married Frances , second daughter of the fourth Baron Berkeley , and from ...
... poet's grandfather , became an admiral , and wrote a spirited but somewhat dubious account of his luckless adventures , while the eldest in- herited the title , married Frances , second daughter of the fourth Baron Berkeley , and from ...
Page v
... poet . From the poet in turn it went to his cousin's son ; and thus the present Lord Byron is a descendant of the Admiral . If heredity explains vagaries of character , it is plain that these crossed and intermingled strains of wild and ...
... poet . From the poet in turn it went to his cousin's son ; and thus the present Lord Byron is a descendant of the Admiral . If heredity explains vagaries of character , it is plain that these crossed and intermingled strains of wild and ...
Page vi
... poet's life . Two years later he married Catherine Gordon of Gight , near Aberdeen , who had about £ 23,000 in her own right . She is described as " a dumpy young woman , with a large waist , florid complexion , and homely features ...
... poet's life . Two years later he married Catherine Gordon of Gight , near Aberdeen , who had about £ 23,000 in her own right . She is described as " a dumpy young woman , with a large waist , florid complexion , and homely features ...
Page vii
... poet owed anything to her it was his abhorrence of tyranny , his generosity toward the poor and the oppressed . To his nurse , Mary Gray , of whom he was fond , Byron owed his familiarity with the Bible and his strong bent toward ...
... poet owed anything to her it was his abhorrence of tyranny , his generosity toward the poor and the oppressed . To his nurse , Mary Gray , of whom he was fond , Byron owed his familiarity with the Bible and his strong bent toward ...
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Common terms and phrases
Adah Arqua art thou Astarte beautiful behold beneath blood blue breast breath BRIDE OF ABYDOS brow Byron Cain Canto CHAMOIS cheek CHILDE HAROLD clouds cold dare dark dead death deep DON JUAN dost dread earth eyes Farewell fear feel foam gaze gentle Giaour glory Goethe grave hand hath heard heart heaven heaving hour immortal isle jelicks Lady land light limbs live lone look look'd Lord Lord Byron Lucifer MANFRED mortal mountains Murray ne'er never night o'er once PARISINA poet poetry PRISONER OF CHILLON roll'd rose round Samian wine scarce seem'd shore SIEGE OF CORINTH sigh slave smile soul spirit Stanzas star steed stood sweet tears thee thine things thou art Thou hast thought throne tomb turn'd Venice voice wall waters wave weep wild wind Witch Wordsworth youth
Popular passages
Page 92 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war...
Page 82 - Greece — but living Greece no more ! So coldly sweet, so deadly fair, We start — for soul is wanting there. Hers is the loveliness in death, That parts not quite with parting breath; But beauty with that fearful bloom, That hue which haunts it to the tomb — Expression's last receding ray, A gilded halo hovering round decay, The farewell beam of feeling past away! Spark of that flame — perchance of heavenly birth — Which gleams, but warms no more its cherished earth!
Page 67 - You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet : Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one?
Page 94 - 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 1 with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
Page 32 - Is thy face like thy mother's, my fair child ! ADA ! sole daughter of my house and heart ? When last I saw thy young blue eyes they smiled, And then we parted, — not as now we part, But with a hope. — Awaking with a start, The waters heave around me ; and on high The winds lift up their voices : I depart, Whither I know not ; but the hour's gone by, When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.
Page lvii - What, in ill thoughts again ? Men must endure Their going hence, even as their coming hither : Ripeness is all : Come on.
Page 256 - A mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping, Dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye Could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping In sight, then lost amidst the forestry Of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping On tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy; A huge, dun cupola, like a foolscap crown On a fool's head- and there is London Town!
Page 102 - In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more, And silent rows the songless gondolier ; Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, And music meets not always now the ear : Those days are gone — but Beauty still is here. States fall, arts fade — but Nature doth not die, Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy ! IV.
Page 125 - Lone — as a solitary cloud, A single cloud on a sunny day, While all the rest of heaven is clear, A frown upon the atmosphere, That hath no business to appear When skies are blue, and earth is gay.
Page 96 - 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.