The Works of Lord Byron: Lara. Siege of Corinth. Parisina. The prisoner of Chillon. Beppo. Mazeppa

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168 ÆäÀÌÁö - In this last loss, of all the most ! And then the sighs he would suppress Of fainting nature's feebleness, More slowly drawn, grew less and less...
173 ÆäÀÌÁö - And then there was a little isle Which in my very face did smile, The only one in view ; A small green isle, it seem'd no more, Scarce broader than my dungeon floor, But in it there were three tall trees, And o'er it blew the mountain breeze, And by it there were waters flowing, And on it there were young flowers growing, Of gentle breath and hue.
160 ÆäÀÌÁö - My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's spoil, And mine has been the fate of those To whom the goodly earth and air Are bann'd, and barr'd — forbidden fare; But this was for my father's faith I suffer'd chains and courted death...
161 ÆäÀÌÁö - A sunbeam which hath lost its way, And through the crevice and the cleft Of the thick wall is fallen and left; Creeping o'er the floor so damp, Like a marsh's meteor lamp. And in each pillar there is a ring, And in each ring there is a chain...
170 ÆäÀÌÁö - But knowing well captivity, Sweet bird! I could not wish for thine! Or if it were, in winged guise, A visitant from Paradise; For— Heaven forgive that thought!
164 ÆäÀÌÁö - A double dungeon wall and wave Have made — and like a living grave. Below the surface of the lake The dark vault lies wherein we lay, We heard it ripple night and day; Sounding o'er our heads it...
166 ÆäÀÌÁö - God ! it is a fearful thing To see the human soul take wing In any shape, in any mood...
12 ÆäÀÌÁö - All was so still, so soft in earth and air, You scarce would start to meet a spirit there ; Secure that nought of evil could delight To walk in such a scene, on such a night...
172 ÆäÀÌÁö - Who loved me in a human shape ; , And the whole earth would henceforth be A wider prison unto me; No child, no sire, no kin had I, No partner in my misery ; I thought of this, and I was glad, For thought of them had made me mad ; But I was curious to ascend To my barr'd windows, and to bend Once more, upon the mountains high, The quiet of a loving eye.
170 ÆäÀÌÁö - None lived to love me so again, And cheering from my dungeon's brink, Had brought me back to feel and think. I know not if it late were free, Or broke its cage to perch on mine, But knowing well captivity, Sweet bird ! I could not wish for thine.

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