Byron, Volume 1 (Google eBook)

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C. Scribner's sons, 1912 - Poets, English
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Page 131 - Near this spot Are deposited the Remains Of one Who Possessed Beauty Without Vanity, Strength without Insolence, Courage without Ferocity, And all the Virtues of Man Without his Vices. This Praise, which would be unmeaning flattery If inscribed over Human Ashes, Is but a just tribute to the Memory of "Boatswain," a Dog Who was born at Newfoundland, May, 1803, And died at Newstead Abbey Nov. 18, 1808.
Page 68 - Had wander'd from its dwelling, and her eyes They had not their own lustre, but the look Which is not of the earth; she was become The queen of a fantastic realm; her thoughts Were combinations of disjointed things; And forms impalpable and unperceived Of others
Page 309 - I saw him stand Before an Altar with a gentle bride ; Her face was fair, but was not that which made The Starlight of his Boyhood ; as he stood Even at the altar, o'er his brow there...
Page 309 - But the old mansion, and the accustom'd hall, And the remember'd chambers, and the place, The day, the hour, the sunshine, and the shade, All things pertaining to that place and hour, And her who was his destiny, came back And thrust themselves between him and the light : What business had they there at such a time?
Page 230 - REMEMBER THEE! REMEMBER THEE! REMEMBER thee ! remember thee ! Till Lethe quench life's burning stream Remorse and shame shall cling to thee, And haunt thee like a feverish dream ! Remember thee ! Ay, doubt it not.
Page 153 - I found him bursting with indignation. ' Will you believe it?' said he, ' I have just met * * *, and asked him to come and sit an hour with me: he excused himself; and what do you think was his excuse? He was engaged with his mother and some ladies to go shopping! And he knows I set out to-morrow, to be absent for years, perhaps never to return! Friendship! I do not believe I shall leave behind me, yourself and family excepted, and perhaps my mother, a single being who will care what becomes...
Page 68 - ... many men, And made him friends of mountains : with the stars And the quick Spirit of the Universe He held his dialogues ; and they did teach To him the magic of their mysteries ; To him the book of Night was open'd wide, And voices from the deep abyss reveal'd A marvel and a secret Be it so.
Page 64 - Yet was I calm : I knew the time My breast would thrill before thy look ; But now to tremble were a crime We met, and not a nerve was shook. I saw thee gaze upon my face, Yet meet with no confusion there : One only feeling could'st thou trace ; The sullen calmness of despair. Away ! away ! my early dream Remembrance never must awake : Oh ! where is Lethe's fabled stream ? My foolish heart, be still, or break.
Page 277 - A thing of dark imaginings, that shaped By choice the perils he by chance escaped; But 'scaped in vain, for in their memory yet His mind would half exult and half regret...
Page 64 - Well! thou art happy, and I feel That I should thus be happy too; For still my heart regards thy weal Warmly, as it was wont to do.

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