Poems by the Right Honourable Lord Byron;: With His Memoirs..Jones, 1826 - 174 من الصفحات |
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Adieu Allan's Alva's arms Bard beam beauty behold beneath blast bless bless'd blood bosom brave breast breath brow Calmar Camoens CATULLUS cheek chief dare dark dead dear death deeds dream Dunciad dwell Edinburgh Review Epic expire falchion fame FAREWELL fate fear feel fire foes follies fond gale genius gentle gleaming glory glow hail hail'd hapless hate hath heart heaven heroes honour hope hour Iulus Latian live Loch na Garr Lochlin Lord Byron Lord Fanny lyre Mathon mingle Morven mourn Muse ne'er never NEWSTEAD ABBEY night Nisus Nisus and Euryalus numbers o'er once Orla Oscar perchance Phidias poem praise pride raise rhyme rise roll scenes seek shade shame sighs sire sleep slumber smile song sons soul spirit strain sweet tears thee thine thou throng trembling twas twill verse voice wave weep wing yield youth
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 153 - The shore to which their shiver'd sail shall never stretch again. Then the mortal coldness of the soul like death itself comes down ; It cannot feel for others' woes, it dare not dream its own ; That heavy chill has frozen o'er the fountain of our tears, And though the eye may sparkle still, 'tis where the ice appears.
الصفحة 146 - ... hour foretold Sorrow to this ! The dew of the morning Sunk chill on my brow; It felt like the warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame: I hear thy name spoken And share in its shame.
الصفحة 132 - Should her lineaments resemble Those thou never more mayst see, Then thy heart will softly tremble With a pulse yet true to me. All my faults perchance thou knowest, All my madness none can know ; All my hopes, where'er thou goest...
الصفحة 160 - Derision shall strike thee forlorn, A mockery that never shall die : The curses of Hate and the hisses of Scorn Shall burthen the winds of thy sky ; And proud o'er thy ruin for ever be hurled The laughter of Triumph, the jeers of the World.
الصفحة 132 - Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not; Love may sink by slow decay, But by sudden wrench, believe not Hearts can thus be torn away: Still thine own its life retaineth, Still must mine, though bleeding, beat; And the undying thought which paineth Is — that we no more may meet.
الصفحة 146 - ... warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame: I hear thy name spoken And share in its shame. They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o'er me — Why wert thou so dear? They know not I knew thee Who knew thee too well: Long, long shall I rue thee Too deeply to tell. In secret we met: In silence I grieve That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? — With silence and tears.
الصفحة 147 - These lips are mute, these eyes are dry ; But in my breast and in my brain, Awake the pangs that pass not by, The thought that ne'er shall sleep again.
الصفحة 132 - Those thou never more mayst see, Then thy heart will softly tremble With a pulse yet true to me. All my faults perchance thou knowest, All my madness none can know ; All my hopes, where'er thou goest, Wither, yet with thee they go.
الصفحة 152 - There's not a joy the world can give like that it takes away, When the glow of early thought declines in feeling's dull decay: Tis not on youth's smooth cheek the blush alone, which fades so fast, But the tender bloom of heart is gone, ere youth itself be past.
الصفحة 91 - twill pass for wit ; Care not for feeling — pass your proper jest, And stand a critic, hated yet caress'd.