The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals, and His Life, Volume 12

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J. Murray, 1832 - 324 pages
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Page 209 - While round the armed bands Did clap their bloody hands ; He nothing common did, or mean, Upon that memorable scene, But with his keener eye The axe's edge did try ; Nor called the gods with vulgar spite To vindicate his helpless right, But bowed his comely head Down, as upon a bed.
Page 251 - The angels all were singing out of tune, And hoarse with having little else to do, Excepting to wind up the sun and moon, Or curb a runaway young star or two, Or wild colt of a comet, which too soon Broke out of bounds o'er the ethereal blue, Splitting some planet with its playful tail, As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale.
Page 8 - 1 viso; Ma solo un punto fu quel che ci vinse. Quando leggemmo il disiato riso Esser baciato da cotanto amante , Questi , che mai da me non fia diviso , La bocca mi baciò tutto tremante. Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse; Quel giorno più non vi leggemmo avante.
Page 15 - Sweet hour of twilight! — in the solitude Of the pine forest, and the silent shore Which bounds Ravenna's immemorial wood, Rooted where once the Adrian wave flow'd o'er, To where the last Caesarean fortress stood, Evergreen forest! which Boccaccio's lore And Dryden's lay made haunted ground...
Page 19 - OH, talk not to me of a name great in story ; The days of our youth are the days of our glory ; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.
Page 206 - Who kindlest and who quenchest suns ! — Attest ' I am not innocent, — but, are these guiltless ? I perish, but not unavenged ; far ages Float up from the abyss of time to be, And show these eyes, before they close, the doom Of this proud city ; and I leave my curse On her and hers forever...
Page 246 - She whipped two female prentices to death. And hid them in the coal-hole ; for her mind Shaped strictest plans of discipline. Sage schemes ! Such as Lycurgus taught, when at the shrine Of the Orthyan goddess he bade flog The little Spartans • such as erst chastised Our Milton when at college. For this act Did Brownrigg swing. Harsh laws ! But time shall come, When France shall reign, and laws be all repealed.
Page 11 - Alone we were, and no Suspicion near us. Oft-times by that reading Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue Fled from our alter'd cheek.
Page 39 - Boats," and "Waggons !" Oh ! ye shades Of Pope and Dryden, are we come to this ? That trash of such sort not alone evades Contempt, but from the bathos vast abyss Floats scumlike uppermost, and these Jack Cades Of sense and song above your graves may hiss — The "little boatman" and his "Peter Bell" Can sneer at him who drew "Achitophel !" T
Page 295 - He first sank to the bottom — like his works, But soon rose to the surface — like himself...

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