Select Poetical Works of Lord Byron (Google eBook)

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Jones, 1826 - Miniature books - 174 pages
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Page 155 - 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.
Page 148 - ... 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.
Page 134 - 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...
Page 162 - 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.
Page 134 - 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.
Page 148 - ... 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.
Page 149 - 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.
Page 134 - 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.
Page 154 - 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.
Page 91 - twill pass for wit ; Care not for feeling pass your proper jest, And stand a critic, hated yet caress'd.

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