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Abergavenny admiration Alfonso Ali Pacha Baba beauty better blood Boabdil boat Bosphorus breath Byron Diary call'd Canto charming child Childe Harold dead death deep Don Giovanni Don Juan Donna doubt e'er earth eunuch Eutropius eyes fair fame father feelings gazed genius Giaour Haidée Haidée's hand heard heart heaven Hellespont honour hour human human clay Inez jelick Juan's Julia knew lady least lips lived look look'd Lord Byron maid mind moral mother muse ne'er never night o'er once pass'd passion perhaps pleasure poem poet poetry rhyme ribaldry Samian wine scarce seem'd sherbet ship shore sleep smile soul Southey spirit stanzas stood strange sublime sweet tears There's thing thou thought true turn'd virtue Voltaire wave Whate'er wife wind wine wish words Yarrow young youth
Page 375 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Page 256 - Some kinder casuists are pleased to say, In nameless print — that I have no" devotion ; But set those persons down with me to pray, And you shall see who has the properest notion Of getting into heaven the shortest way ; My altars are the mountains and the ocean, Earth, air, stars, — all that springs from the great Whole. Who hath produced, and will receive the souL...
Page 158 - And first one universal shriek there rush'd, Louder than the loud ocean, like a crash Of echoing thunder ; and then all was hush'd, Save the wild wind and the remorseless dash Of billows ; but at intervals there gush'd, Accompanied with a convulsive splash, A solitary shriek, the bubbling cry Of some strong swimmer in his agony.
Page 249 - Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one ? You have the letters Cadmus gave — Think ye he meant them for a slave ? Fill high the bowl with Samian wine!
Page 201 - Man, being reasonable, must get drunk ; The best of life is but intoxication : Glory, the grape, love, gold, in these are sunk The hopes of all men, and of every nation ; Without their sap, how branchless were the trunk Of life's strange tree, so fruitful on occasion : But to return, — Get very drunk ; and when You wake with headache, you shall see what then.
Page 99 - Sweet is the vintage, when the showering grapes In Bacchanal profusion reel to earth, Purple and gushing ; sweet are our escapes From civic revelry to rural mirth ; Sweet to the miser are his glittering heaps, Sweet to the father is his first-born's birth, Sweet is revenge — especially to women, Pillage to soldiers, prize-money to seamen. Sweet is a legacy, and passing sweet The unexpected death of some old lady Or gentleman of seventy years complete, Who've made 'us youth...
Page 246 - The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Have found the fame your shores refuse ; Their place of birth alone is mute To sounds which echo further west Than your sires'
Page 258 - Soft hour ! which wakes the wish and melts the heart Of those who sail the seas, on the first day When they from their sweet friends are torn apart ; Or fills with love the pilgrim on his way, As the far bell of vesper makes him start, Seeming to weep the dying day's decay.
Page 132 - What are the hopes of man? Old Egypt's king Cheops erected the first pyramid, And largest, thinking it was just the thing To keep his memory whole, and mummy hid; But somebody or other, rummaging, Burglariously broke his coffin's lid: Let not a monument give you or me hopes, Since not a pinch of dust remains of Cheops.
Page 217 - Oh, Love! what is it in this world of ours Which makes it fatal to be loved? Ah, why With cypress- branches hast thou wreathed thy bowers, And made thy best interpreter a sigh? As those -who dote on odours pluck the flowers, And place them on their breast — but place to dieThus the frail beings we would fondly cherish Are laid within our bosoms but to perish.