Poetry of Byron, chosen by M. Arnold |
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Page xi
... passes before our eyes as if we actually saw it . And in the same way as these bursts of incident , bursts of sentiment also , living and vigorous , often occur in the midst of poems which must be admitted to be but weakly- conceived ...
... passes before our eyes as if we actually saw it . And in the same way as these bursts of incident , bursts of sentiment also , living and vigorous , often occur in the midst of poems which must be admitted to be but weakly- conceived ...
Page xii
... pass away . The time has come for him , as it comes for all poets , when he must take his real and permanent place , no longer depending upon the vogue of his own day and upon the enthusiasm of his contemporaries . Whatever we may think ...
... pass away . The time has come for him , as it comes for all poets , when he must take his real and permanent place , no longer depending upon the vogue of his own day and upon the enthusiasm of his contemporaries . Whatever we may think ...
Page 4
... and ' twill impart Some pangs to view his happier lot : But let them pass - Oh ! how my heart Would hate him , if he loved thee not ! When late I saw thy favourite child , I thought POETRY OF BYRON . "Well! thou art happy" "9.
... and ' twill impart Some pangs to view his happier lot : But let them pass - Oh ! how my heart Would hate him , if he loved thee not ! When late I saw thy favourite child , I thought POETRY OF BYRON . "Well! thou art happy" "9.
Page 4
... and ' twill impart Some pangs to view his happier lot : But let them pass - Oh ! how my heart Would hate him , if he loved thee not ! When late I saw thy favourite child , I thought 4 POETRY OF BYRON . "Well! thou art happy.
... and ' twill impart Some pangs to view his happier lot : But let them pass - Oh ! how my heart Would hate him , if he loved thee not ! When late I saw thy favourite child , I thought 4 POETRY OF BYRON . "Well! thou art happy.
Page 6
... pass- Thou know'st I am not what I was . But , above all , if thou would'st hold Place in a heart that ne'er was cold , By all the powers that men revere , By all unto thy bosom dear , Thy joys below , thy hopes above , Speak - speak of ...
... pass- Thou know'st I am not what I was . But , above all , if thou would'st hold Place in a heart that ne'er was cold , By all the powers that men revere , By all unto thy bosom dear , Thy joys below , thy hopes above , Speak - speak of ...
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Common terms and phrases
Adah ASTARTE bear beautiful behold beneath blood blue breast breath bride BRIDE OF ABYDOS brow Byron Cain Canto Cast crowns cheek CHILDE HAROLD clime clouds cold Crown 8vo dare dark dead death deep DON JUAN dread earth Edition F. T. PALGRAVE fcap fear feel foam foes gaze gentle Giaour glory Goethe grave hand hath heart heaven heaving hour immortal isle knew land Leopardi light limbs live lone look look'd Lucifer MANFRED MATTHEW ARNOLD moonlight play mortal mountains ne'er never night o'er PARISINA pass'd Poems poet poetic poetry roll'd rose round Samian wine scarce seem'd seen shore sigh slave smile soul spirit Stanzas star steed stood sweet tears thee thine things thou art thou hast thought throne turn'd twas Twere voice waters wave weep wild wind Wordsworth youth
Popular passages
Page 59 - The isles of Greece, the isles of Greece ! Where burning Sappho loved and sung, Where grew the arts of war and peace, Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung ! Eternal summer gilds them yet, But all, except their sun, is set.
Page 50 - THE Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Page xxviii - Were with his heart, and that was far away ; He recked not of the life he lost, nor prize ; But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother, — he, their sire, Butchered to make a Roman holiday.
Page 98 - 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 60 - And where are they? and where art thou, My country? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now, The heroic bosom beats no more ! And must thy lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine?
Page 88 - 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 44 - 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 petty hope in some near port or bay, And dashest him again to earth : — there let him lay.
Page xxiv - What, in ill thoughts again ? Men must endure Their going hence, even as their coming hither : Ripeness is all : Come on.
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 98 - 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 Tloats through the azure air — an island of the blest ! XXVIII.