Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A RomauntG.S. Appleton, 1851 - 287 pages |
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Page 11
... And surely she who now so fondly rears Thy youth , in thee , thus hourly brightening , Beholds the rainbow of her future years , Before whose heavenly hues all sorrow disappears . Young Peri of the West ! - ' tis well TO IANTHE. ...
... And surely she who now so fondly rears Thy youth , in thee , thus hourly brightening , Beholds the rainbow of her future years , Before whose heavenly hues all sorrow disappears . Young Peri of the West ! - ' tis well TO IANTHE. ...
Page 12
... young my strain I would commend , But bid me with my wreath one matchless lily blend . Such is thy name with this my verse entwined ; And long as kinder eyes a look shall cast On Harold's page , Ianthe's here enshrined Shall thus be ...
... young my strain I would commend , But bid me with my wreath one matchless lily blend . Such is thy name with this my verse entwined ; And long as kinder eyes a look shall cast On Harold's page , Ianthe's here enshrined Shall thus be ...
Page 31
... young - eyed Lewdness walks her midnight rounds : Girt with the silent crimes of capitals , Still to the last kind Vice clings to the tottering walls . XLVII . Not so the rustic — with his trembling CANTO I. 31 PILGRIMAGE .
... young - eyed Lewdness walks her midnight rounds : Girt with the silent crimes of capitals , Still to the last kind Vice clings to the tottering walls . XLVII . Not so the rustic — with his trembling CANTO I. 31 PILGRIMAGE .
Page 33
... world . Ah ! Spain ! how sad will be thy reckoning - day , When soars Gaul's Vulture , with his wings unfurl'd , And thou shalt view thy sons in crowds to Hades hurl'd . LIII . And must they fall ? the young , CANTO I. 33 PILGRIMAGE .
... world . Ah ! Spain ! how sad will be thy reckoning - day , When soars Gaul's Vulture , with his wings unfurl'd , And thou shalt view thy sons in crowds to Hades hurl'd . LIII . And must they fall ? the young , CANTO I. 33 PILGRIMAGE .
Page 34
... young , the proud , the brave , To swell one bloated Chief's unwholesome reign ? No step between submission and a grave ? The rise of rapine and the fall of Spain ? And doth the Power that man adores ordain Their doom , nor heed the ...
... young , the proud , the brave , To swell one bloated Chief's unwholesome reign ? No step between submission and a grave ? The rise of rapine and the fall of Spain ? And doth the Power that man adores ordain Their doom , nor heed the ...
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Common terms and phrases
Albania Ali Pacha amidst amongst ancient Ariosto Arqua Athens beauty behold beneath blood Boccaccio bosom breast breath brow Cæsar CANTO Childe Harold CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE Chioza church Cicero Comitium dark death deem'd deep doth dust dwell earth edit Egeria fair fall fame fate feel Ficus Ruminalis gaze glory gondoliers Greece Greek hand hath heart Heaven hills honour hope hour immortal Italian Italy Julius Cæsar lake land less light live Lord mind mortal mountains Nardini ne'er never o'er once pass pass'd passion Petrarch plain poet Pouqueville rock Roman Rome ruin scatter'd scene seems seen shore sigh smile song soul spirit spot STANZA Storia stream Suetonius Tasso tears temple thee thine things thou thought throne tomb triumph Turks tyrants valley Venetians Venice walls waves winds woes wolf words youth καὶ
Popular passages
Page 121 - And this is in the night. — Most glorious night ! Thou wert not sent for slumber ! let me be A sharer in thy fierce and far delight, — A portion of the tempest and of thee ! How the lit lake shines a phosphoric sea, And the big rain comes dancing to the earth ! And now again 'tis black, — and now the glee Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain-mirth, As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth.
Page 120 - All heaven and earth are still— though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most; And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep...
Page 119 - Ye stars ! which are the poetry of heaven ! If in your bright leaves we would read the fate Of men and empires, — 'tis to be forgiven, That in our aspirations to be great, Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state, And claim a kindred with you ; for ye are A beauty and a mystery, and create In us such love and reverence from afar, That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star.
Page 198 - Ye Elements ! — in whose ennobling stir I feel myself exalted — Can ye not Accord me such a being? Do I err In deeming such inhabit many a spot ? Though with them to converse can rarely be our lot.
Page 122 - Could I embody and unbosom now That which is most within me, — could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings, strong or weak, All that I would have sought, and all I seek, Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe— into one word, And that one word were Lightning, I would speak ; But as it is, I live and die unheard, With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword.
Page 91 - Welcome to their roar! Swift be their guidance, wheresoe'er it lead !' Though the strain'd mast should quiver as a reed, And the rent canvas fluttering strew the gale, Still must I on : for I am as a weed, Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam, to sail Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail.
Page 100 - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms, — the day Battle's magnificently stern array! The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent The earth is covered thick with other clay, Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent, Rider and horse, — friend, foe, — in one red burial blent!
Page 179 - Of its own beauty is the mind diseased, And fevers into false creation : — where, Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath seized ? In him alone. Can Nature show so fair...
Page 162 - The roar of waters ! — from the headlong height Velino cleaves the wave-worn precipice ; The fall of waters ! rapid as the light The flashing mass foams shaking the abyss; The hell of waters ! where they howl and hiss, And boil in endless torture ; while the sweat Of their great agony, wrung out from this Their Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jet That gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set, LXX.
Page 184 - But I have lived, and have not lived in vain ; My mind may lose its force, my blood its fire; And my frame perish even in conquering pain, But there is that within me which shall tire Torture and Time, and breathe when I expire...