The Dramas of Lord Byron: A Critical Study

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Classic Textbooks, 1915 - 181 pages
 

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Page 165 - Spirit of BEAUTY, that dost consecrate With thine own hues all thou dost shine upon Of human thought or form, where art thou gone ? Why dost thou pass away and leave our state, This dim vast vale of tears, vacant and desolate?
Page 125 - AND it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and daughters were born unto them, that the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose.
Page 89 - They never fail who die In a great cause : the block may soak their gore ; Their heads may sodden in the sun ; their limbs Be strung to city gates and castle walls — But still their spirit walks abroad. Though years Elapse, and others share as dark a doom, They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts Which overpower all others, and conduct The world at last to freedom.
Page 62 - He fed on poisons, and they had no power, But were a kind of nutriment; he lived Through that which had been death to many men And made him friends of mountains: with the stars And the quick spirit of the universe He held his dialogues; and they did teach To him the magic of their mysteries; To him the book of night was opened wide. And voices from the deep abyss revealed A marvel and a secret — Be it so.
Page 72 - Thy shadow, and the darkness of thy steps, And my heart ever gazes on the depth Of thy deep mysteries. I have made my bed In charnels and on coffins, where black death Keeps record of the trophies won from thee, Hoping to still these obstinate questionings Of thee and thine, by forcing some lone ghost, Thy messenger, to render up the tale Of what we are.
Page 76 - Thou didst not tempt me, and thou couldst not tempt me; I have not been thy dupe nor am thy prey, But was my own destroyer, and will be My own hereafter. — Back, ye baffled fiends ! The hand of death is on me — but not yours ! [The Demons disappear.
Page 78 - But I hate things all fiction; and therefore the 'Merchant' and 'Othello' have no great associations to me; but ' Pierre' has. There should always be some foundation of fact for the most airy fabric, and pure invention is but the talent of a liar.
Page 114 - Evil, be thou my good : by thee at least Divided empire with heaven's King I hold, By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign ; As man ere long and this new world shall know.
Page 154 - But we, who name ourselves its sovereigns, we, Half dust, half deity, alike unfit To sink or soar, with our mixed essence, make A conflict of its elements, and breathe The breath of degradation and of pride, Contending with low wants and lofty will, Till our mortality predominates, And men are — what they name not to themselves, And trust not to each other.
Page 56 - Pity, and smiles, and tears— which I had not; And tenderness— but that I had for her; Humility— and that I never had. Her faults were mine— her virtues were her own— I loved her, and destroyed her!

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