Œuvres complètes: avec notes et commentaires, Volume 13

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Dondey-Dupré père et fils, 1831
 

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Page 293 - Quand une lecture vous élève l'esprit, et qu'elle vous inspire des sentiments nobles et courageux, ne cherchez pas une autre règle pour juger de l'ouvrage; il est bon, et fait de main d'ouvrier.
Page 290 - CHILDE HAROLD'S LAST PILGRIMAGE. "BY THE REV. WL BOWLES. "SO ENDS CHILDE HAROLD HIS LAST PILGRIMAGE!— Upon the shores of Greece he stood, and cried 'LIBERTY!' and those shores, from age to age Renown'd, and Sparta's woods and rocks replied 'Liberty!
Page 291 - Slow moves the plumed hearse, the mourning train, — I mark the sad procession with a sigh, Silently passing to that village fane, Where, HAROLD, thy forefathers mouldering lie; — There sleeps THAT MOTHER, who with tearful eye, Pondering the fortunes of thy early road, Hung o'er the slumbers of thine infancy; Her son, released from mortal labour's load, Now comes to rest, with her, in the same still abode. "Bursting Death's silence — could that mother speak — (Speak when the earth was heap'd...
Page 298 - In that contempt for the world's opinion, which led Dante to exclaim, " Lascia dir le genti," Lord Byron also bore a strong resemblance to that poet, — though far more, it must be confessed, in profession than reality. For, while scorn for...
Page 186 - ... par inquiétude des blessures qui ne sont pas mortelles, ils sont tombés dans un affaissement qui empêche toujours le vainqueur de porter le dernier coup au vaincu. Chaque état est sur le penchant du précipice; mais aucun de ses ennemis n'a l'habileté ou la force de l'y faire tomber.
Page 291 - SO HAROLD ENDS, IN GREECE, HIS PILGRIMAGE!— There fitly ending, — in that land renown'd, Whose mighty genius lives in Glory's page, — He, on the Muses' consecrated ground, Sinking to rest, while his young brows are bound With their unfading wreath! — To bands of mirth, No more in TEMPE let the pipe resound! HAROLD, I follow to thy place of birth The slow hearse — and thy LAST sad PILGRIMAGE on earth.
Page 291 - I will not ask sad Pity to deplore His wayward errors, who thus early died; Still less, CHILDE HAROLD, now thou art no more, Will I say aught of genius misapplied; Of the past shadows of thy spleen or pride: — But I will bid th' Arcadian cypress wave, Pluck the green laurel from Peneus' side, And pray thy spirit may such quiet have, That not one thought unkind be murmur'd o'er thy grave.
Page 291 - Muses' consecrated ground, Sinking to rest, while his young brows are bound With their unfading wreath! — To bands of mirth, No more in TEMPE let the pipe resound! HAROLD, I follow to thy place of birth The slow hearse — and thy LAST sad PILGRIMAGE on earth. "Slow moves the plumed hearse, the mourning train, — I mark the sad procession with a sigh, Silently passing to that village fane, Where, HAROLD, thy forefathers mouldering lie...
Page 38 - Nous avons brûlé les corps de Shelley et de Williams, sur le bord de la mer, pour rendre possible de les transporter et de leur faire des funérailles. Vous ne pouvez vous figurer quel effet produisait ce bûcher funèbre sur un rivage désolé, avec des montagnes au fond et la mer devant, et la singulière apparence que le sel et l'encens donnaient à la flamme.
Page 126 - Wie soll ich dem, den ich so lang' begleitet, Nun etwas Traulich's in die Ferne sagen? Ihm, der sich selbst im Innersten bestreitet, Stark angewohnt, das tiefste Weh zu tragen. Wohl sey ihm doch, wenn er sich selbst empfindet! Er wage selbst sich hochbeglückt zu nennen, Wenn Musenkraft die Schmerzen überwindet, Und wie ich ihn erkannt, mög

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