Childe Harold's pilgrimage [cantos 1 and 2, with other poems. Wanting pp |
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Page 23
... wide : Fresh lessons to the thinking bosom , how Vain are the pleasaunces on earth supplied ; Swept into wrecks anon by Time's ungentle tide ! XXIV . Behold the hall where chiefs were late conven'd Canto I. 23 PILGRIMAGE .
... wide : Fresh lessons to the thinking bosom , how Vain are the pleasaunces on earth supplied ; Swept into wrecks anon by Time's ungentle tide ! XXIV . Behold the hall where chiefs were late conven'd Canto I. 23 PILGRIMAGE .
Page 24
George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) XXIV . Behold the hall where chiefs were late conven'd ! 4 Oh ! dome displeasing unto British eye ! With diadem hight foolscap , lo ! a fiend , A little fiend that scoffs incessantly , There sits in ...
George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) XXIV . Behold the hall where chiefs were late conven'd ! 4 Oh ! dome displeasing unto British eye ! With diadem hight foolscap , lo ! a fiend , A little fiend that scoffs incessantly , There sits in ...
Page 33
... behold the tools , The broken tools , that tyrants cast away By myriads , when they dare to pave their way With human hearts - to what ? -a dream alone . Can despots compass aught that hails their sway ? Or call with truth one span of ...
... behold the tools , The broken tools , that tyrants cast away By myriads , when they dare to pave their way With human hearts - to what ? -a dream alone . Can despots compass aught that hails their sway ? Or call with truth one span of ...
Page 43
... behold the hallow'd scene , Which others rave of , though they know it not ? Though here no more Apollo haunts his grot , And thou , the Muses ' seat , art now their grave , Some gentle Spirit still pervades the spot , Sighs in the gale ...
... behold the hallow'd scene , Which others rave of , though they know it not ? Though here no more Apollo haunts his grot , And thou , the Muses ' seat , art now their grave , Some gentle Spirit still pervades the spot , Sighs in the gale ...
Page 44
... Behold a train more fitting to inspire The song of love , than Andalusia's maids , Nurst in the glowing lap of soft desire : Ah ! that to these were given such peaceful shades As Greece can still bestow , though Glory fly her glades ...
... Behold a train more fitting to inspire The song of love , than Andalusia's maids , Nurst in the glowing lap of soft desire : Ah ! that to these were given such peaceful shades As Greece can still bestow , though Glory fly her glades ...
Other editions - View all
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage Cantos 1 and 2, With Other Poems. Wanting Pp George Gordon N Byron (6th Baron ) No preview available - 2019 |
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage [Cantos 1 and 2, with Other Poems. Wanting Pp George Gordon N Byron (6th Baron ) No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
Acarnania Albania Albanian Ali Pacha amongst ancient Arnaout Athens aught beautiful behold beneath blood bosom breast Caimacam charms Childe Harold Childe Harold's Pilgrimage clime Constantinople Coray dark dear deem'd doth dread dream earth Epirus ev'n fair feel gaze Giaour Greece Greeks hand hath heart honour hope hour land Leander live lonely Lord lov'd maid mountains ne'er never o'er once Pacha pang pass'd Pindus Pouqueville rock Romaic scene shore shrine sigh slave smile song sooth soul Spain Stanza sweet tear thee thine thing Thornton thou art thou hast translation Turkish Turks wave weep youth Zitza ἀπὸ Ας δὲ δὲν δὲν εἶναι Διὰ νὰ εἶναι εἰς τὴν εἰς τὸ Ελλήνων ἐν ἕνα ἡμεῖς θέλει καὶ κὴ με νὰ οἱ πῶς σᾶς σε τὰ τὰς τῇ τῆς τὸ τὸν τῶν ὡς
Popular passages
Page 107 - Hereditary bondsmen ! know ye not Who would be free themselves must strike the blow? By their right arms the conquest must be wrought? Will Gaul or Muscovite redress ye? no!
Page 14 - Adieu, adieu ! my native shore Fades o'er the waters blue ; The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar, And shrieks the wild sea-mew. Yon sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight: Farewell awhile to him and thee, My native Land— Good Night!
Page 111 - Athens' children are with hearts endued, When Grecian mothers shall give birth to men, Then may'st thou be restored ; but not till then. A thousand years scarce serve to form a state ; An hour may lay it in the dust : and when Can man its shatter'd splendour renovate, Recall its virtues back, and vanquish Time and Fate?
Page 78 - 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 flatter'd, follow'd, sought, and sued; This is to be alone; this, this is solitude!
Page 66 - Ancient of days ! august Athena ! where, Where are thy men of might, thy grand in soul? Gone, — glimmering through the dream of things that were : First in the race that led to glory's goal, They won, and passed away, — is this the whole?
Page 114 - The flying Mede, his shaftless broken bow; The fiery Greek, his red pursuing spear; Mountains above, Earth's, Ocean's plain below; Death in the front, Destruction in the rear! Such was the scene— what now remaineth here? What sacred trophy marks the hallow'd ground, Recording Freedom's smile and Asia's tear?
Page 68 - Look on its broken arch, its ruined wall, Its chambers desolate, and portals foul : Yes, this was once Ambition's airy hall, The Dome of Thought, the Palace of the Soul...
Page 233 - As stars that shoot along the sky Shine brightest as they fall from high. As once I wept, if I could weep, My tears might well be shed, To think I was not near to keep One vigil o'er thy bed, To gaze — how fondly ! on thy face, To fold thee in a faint embrace, Uphold thy drooping head ; And show that love, however vain, Nor thou nor I can feel again.
Page 77 - 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 32 - Flashing afar, — and at his iron feet Destruction cowers to mark what deeds are done ; For on this morn three potent nations meet, To shed before his shrine the blood he deems most sweet.