The works of lord Byron
Bernh. Tauchnitz., 1826
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arms Arnold bear beauty beneath better blood breast breath Cain chief dare dark dead death deep Doge doubt earth eyes face fair fall father fear feel Gabor gaze give grave half hand hast hath head hear heard heart heaven hope hour human Juan king knew lady land late least leave less light live look Lord Lucifer Marina mean mind mortal Myrrha nature ne'er never night o'er once pass past perhaps present rest rise round Sard scarce seems seen shore slave smile sought soul sound speak spirit sweet tears tell thee thine things thou thought thousand true turn twas Ulric voice walls waters wave Werner wind young youth
Page 62 - He who hath bent him o'er the dead, Ere the first day of death is fled ; The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress ; (Before Decay's effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers...
Page 56 - Were with his heart, and that was far away; He reck'd 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, Butcher'd to make a Roman holiday— All this rush'd with his blood— Shall he expire And unavenged? Arise! ye Goths, and glut your ire!
Page 62 - Appals the gazing mourner's heart, As if to him it could impart The doom he dreads, yet dwells upon ; Yes, but for these, and these alone, Some moments, ay, one treacherous hour, He still might doubt the tyrant's power ; So fair, so calm, so softly seal'd, The first, last look by death reveal'd...
Page 135 - None lived to love me so again, And cheering from my dungeon's brink, Had brought me back to feel and think.
Page 135 - I saw the dungeon walls and floor Close slowly round me as before, I saw the glimmer of the sun Creeping as it before had done, But through the crevice where it came...
Page 20 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er, or rarely, been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Page 49 - Scipios' tomb contains no ashes now; The very sepulchres lie tenantless Of their heroic dwellers: dost thou flow, Old Tiber! through a marble wilderness? Rise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress.
Page 576 - TITAN ! to whose immortal eyes The sufferings of mortality, Seen in their sad reality, Were not as things that gods despise ; What was thy pity's recompense ? A silent suffering, and intense ; The rock, the vulture, and the chain, All that the proud can feel of pain...
Page 584 - And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
Page 171 - Man's love is of man's life a thing apart, "Tis woman's whole existence; man may range The court, camp, church, the vessel, and the mart; Sword, gown, gain, glory, offer in exchange Pride, fame, ambition, to fill up his heart, And few there are whom these cannot estrange; Men have all these resources, we but one, To love again, and be again undone.