The complete works of lord Byron with a biogr. and critical notice by J. W. Lake (Google eBook)

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1825
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Page 298 - That host with their banners at sunset were seen: Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, That host on the morrow lay withered and strown. For the angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed...
Page 279 - SHE walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes : Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
Page 399 - WHEN we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss ; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this.
Page 312 - Where had been heaped a mass of holy things For an unholy usage ; they raked up, And shivering scraped, with their cold skeleton hands, The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath Blew for a little life, and made a flame Which was a mockery ; then they lifted up Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld Each other's aspects — saw, and shrieked, and died — Even of their mutual hideousness they died, Unknowing who he was upon whose brow Famine had written Fiend.
Page 305 - To live within himself; she was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all : upon a tone, A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow, And his cheek change tempestuously — his heart Unknowing of its cause of agony.
Page 288 - ... should the shaft or the sword Pierce me in leading the host of the Lord, Heed not the corse, though a king's, in your path : Bury your steel in the bosoms of Gath! Thou who art bearing my buckler and bow, Should the soldiers of Saul look away from the foe, Stretch me that moment in blood at thy feet ! Mine be the doom which they dared not to meet. Farewell to others, but never we part, Heir to my royalty, son of my heart ! Bright is the diadem, boundless the sway, Or kingly the death, which awaits...
Page 238 - to shake off toil and trouble, And quit his books for fear of growing double;ği Who, both by precept and example, shows That prose is verse, and verse is merely prose...
Page 315 - Titan ! to whose immortal eyes The sufferings of mortality, Seen in their sad reality, Were not as things that gods despise, What was thy pity's recompense? A silent suffering, and intense ; The rock, the vulture, and the chain, All that the proud can feel of pain...
Page 438 - Though the ocean roar around me, Yet it still shall bear me on ; Though a desert should surround me, It hath springs that may be won.
Page 291 - Shall it survey, shall it recall : Each fainter trace that memory holds So darkly of departed years, In one broad glance the soul beholds, And all, that was, at once appears.

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