Adeline Auld Lang Syne Baba beautiful blood brow Canto charm chaste Cossacks death devil Don Juan doubt Dudu e'er earth eyes face fair fame feelings gazed gentle Giaour glory grace grew Gulbeyaz Haidee hath head heard heart Heaven hero hour Houris human human clay Juan's Julia knew lady late least leave less light look look'd Lord lord Byron LXVIII LXXXVI maid marriage mind moral Muse ne'er never night Note nought o'er once passion Perhaps poet pretty preux Chevalier rhyme Samian wine scarce seem'd seen Seraskier sigh sleep smile sometimes sort soul Spain spirit stanza stood strange sublime Suwarrow sweet tears tell there's things thou thought true truth turn turn'd twas twill unto whate'er wind wish wonder words XXXIII young youth
Page 125 - 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 120 - The tyrant of the Chersonese Was freedom's best and bravest friend. That tyrant was Miltiades. Oh, that the present hour would lend Another despot of the kind ! Such chains as his were sure to bind.
Page 121 - But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think...
Page 119 - And where are they, and where art thou, My country? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now The heroic bosom beats no more! And must thy lyre, so long divine, Degenerate into hands like mine? ' 'Tis something, in the dearth of fame, Though...
Page 96 - An infant when it gazes on a light, A child the moment when it drains the breaSt, A devotee when soars the Host in sight, An Arab with a Stranger for a guest, A sailor when the prize has Struck in fight, A miser filling his moSt hoarded chest, Feel rapture; but not such true joy are reaping As they who watch o'er what they love while sleeping...
Page 119 - In vain— in vain: strike other chords; Fill high the cup with Samian wine! Leave battles to the Turkish hordes, And shed the blood of Scio's vine! Hark! rising to the ignoble call— How answers each bold Bacchanal!
Page 123 - Ave Maria ! blessed be the hour ! The time, the clime, the spot, where I so oft Have felt that moment in its fullest power Sink o'er the earth so beautiful and soft, While swung the deep bell in the distant tower. Or the faint dying day-hymn stole aloft, And not a breath crept through the rosy air, And yet the forest leaves seem'd stirr'd with prayer.
Page 74 - But the boy bore up long, and with a mild And patient spirit held aloof his fate ; Little he said, and now and then he smiled, As if to win a part from off the weight He saw increasing on his father's heart, With the deep deadly thought, that they must part.
Page 259 - All that the mind would shrink from of excesses ; All that the body perpetrates of bad ; All that we read, hear, dream, of man's distresses ; All that the devil would do if run stark mad ; All that defies the worst which pen expresses ; All by which hell is peopled, or as sad As hell — mere mortals who their power abuse — Was here (as heretofore and since) let loose.