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Ahasuerus Anarchs Argos Athens Attica battle Beneath blood Bosphorus burst canst Chorus Christian clime clouds Constantinople Corinth Crete Daood dead death decay deluge despair destroyer drama dream dust eagle earth earthquake empire faint faith fear feast fierce fiery fled fleet flowers foam folding star ghost glorious glory gold golden grave Grecian Hassan hear heart Heaven hoary hope hour immortal Indian interpreter of dreams Islam Islamite isles kill Let Freedom light live Mahmud Messenger mighty moon morning mountains Nauplia night o'er oblivion ocean oppressors Phantom quench'd rebel ruin Russia sapphire Saturn and Love Second Messenger see'st Semichorus 1st Semichorus 2d shadows shakes shout shrieks Slavery slaves sleep smile soul spasm spirit splendour Stamboul storm Sublime Highness swift tears tempest Thebes thee thine Thou art thought thousand throne thunder tremble Truth tyrant veil'd Victory vultures WALLACHIA weak weave weep wind wings would'st wreck
Page 12 - Worlds on worlds are rolling ever From creation to decay, Like the bubbles on a river Sparkling, bursting, borne away. But they are still immortal Who, through birth's orient portal And death's dark chasm hurrying to and fro, Clothe their unceasing flight In the brief dust and light Gathered around their chariots as they go...
Page 52 - The world's great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn : Heaven smiles, and faiths and empires gleam, Like wrecks of a dissolving dream. A brighter Hellas rears its mountains From waves serener far ; A new Peneus rolls his fountains Against the morning-star. Where fairer Tempes bloom, there sleep Young Cyclads on a sunnier deep.
Page 52 - Where fairer Tempes bloom, there sleep Young Cyclads on a sunnier deep. A loftier Argo cleaves the main, Fraught with a later prize ; Another Orpheus sings again. And loves, and weeps, and dies. A new Ulysses leaves once more Calypso for his native shore. Oh, write no more the tale of Troy, If earth Death's scroll must be! Nor mix with Laian rage the joy Which dawns upon the free: Although a subtler Sphinx renew Riddles of death Thebes never knew.
Page 51 - Through the sunset of hope, Like the shapes of a dream, What Paradise islands of glory gleam Beneath Heaven's cope. Their shadows more clear float by — The sound of their oceans, the light of their sky, The music and fragrance their solitudes breathe, Burst like morning on...
Page 13 - A power from the unknown God ; A Promethean conqueror came ; Like a triumphal path he trod The thorns of death and shame. A mortal shape to him Was like the vapour dim Which the orient planet animates with light ; Hell, Sin, and Slavery came, Like blood-hounds mild and tame, Nor preyed until their lord had taken flight. The moon of Mahomet Arose, and it shall set : While blazoned as on heaven's immortal noon The cross leads generations on.
Page 52 - Nor mix with Laian rage the joy Which dawns upon the free: Although a subtler Sphinx renew Riddles of death Thebes never knew. Another Athens shall arise, And to remoter time Bequeath, like sunset to the skies, The splendour of its prime; And leave, if nought so bright may live, All earth can take or Heaven can give.
Page ix - The modern Greek is the descendant of those glorious beings whom the imagination almost refuses to figure to itself as belonging to our kind, and he inherits much of their sensibility, their rapidity of conception, their enthusiasm, and their courage.
Page viii - We are all Greeks. Our laws, our literature, our religion, our arts, have their root in Greece. But for Greece — Rome, the instructor, the conqueror, or the metropolis of our ancestors, would have spread no illumination with her arms, and we might still have been savages and idolaters...
Page 38 - Atlantic clouds — this Whole Of suns, and worlds, and men, and beasts, and flowers, With all the silent or tempestuous workings By which they have been, are, or cease to be, Is but a vision ; — all that it inherits Are motes of a sick eye, bubbles and dreams ; Thought is its cradle and its grave...
Page 14 - Swift as the radiant shapes of sleep From one whose dreams are paradise, Fly, when the fond wretch wakes to weep, And day peers forth with her blank eyes ; So fleet, so faint, so fair, The Powers of earth and air Fled from the folding star of Bethlehem : Apollo, Pan, and Love, And even Olympian Jove Grew weak, for killing Truth had glared on them. Our hills, and seas, and streams, Dispeopled of their dreams, Their waters turned to blood, their dew to tears, Wailed for the golden years.