The beauties of Byron,: consisting of selections from his works (Google eBook)

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Printed by T. Davison, for Thomas Tegg, ...; R. Griffin and Co. Glasgow; and J. Cumming, Dublin., 1824 - 212 pages
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Page 167 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er, or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean , This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
Page 167 - But midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men, To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess, And roam along, the world's tired denizen, With none who bless us, none whom we can bless; Minions of splendour shrinking from distress ! None that, with kindred consciousness endued, If we were not, would seem to smile the less Of all that flattered, followed, sought and sued ; This is to be alone; this, this is solitude!
Page 195 - Cameron's gathering' rose! The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their...
Page 65 - The mountains look on Marathon, And Marathon looks on the sea. And musing there an hour alone, I dreamed that Greece might still be free, For standing on the Persians' grave, I could not deem myself a slave.
Page 85 - Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, 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 wither'd and strown.
Page 49 - 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 : All heaven and earth are still : From the high host Of stars, to the lull'd lake and mountain-coast, All is concenter'd in a life intense, Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost, But hath a part of being, and a sense Of that which is of all Creator and defence, xc.
Page 148 - Thy waters wasted them while they were free, And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey The stranger, slave or savage ; their decay Has dried up realms to deserts not so thou Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves
Page 146 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar...
Page 67 - Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! On Suli's rock, and Parga's shore, Exists the remnant of a line Such as the Doric mothers bore; And there, perhaps, some seed is sown, The Heracleidan blood might own.
Page 150 - O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, Survey our empire, and behold our home!

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