What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
adventures affair appeared arrived Athens beauty became believe called cause CHAPTER character Childe Harold Christian circumstances conduct considered course described Doctor doubt effect English entered expressed eyes feelings felt formed genius give given Greece Greek hand heard heart honour hour Hunt imagination impression incident interest Italy kind lady land least less letter living look Lord Byron Lordship manner mean mentioned mind morning mountain nature never night object observed occasion once opinion particular Pashaw passage passed passion perhaps period person poem poet poetical possessed present probably rank received remained remarkable residence respect scene seemed seen sent side soon speak spirit supposed taken thing thought tion took travellers whole wish written young
Page 129 - Such is the aspect of this shore ; 'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more ! So coldly sweet, so deadly fair, We start, for soul is wanting there.
Page 147 - As it slipp'd through their jaws, when their edge grew dull, As they lazily mumbled the bones of the dead, When they scarce could rise from the spot where they fed; So well had they broken a lingering fast With those who had fallen for that night's repast.
Page 128 - Morea's hills the setting sun; not as in northern climes obscurely bright, but one unclouded blaze of living light : o'er the hushed deep the yellow beam he throws, gilds the green wave that trembles as it glows. On old jEgina's rock and Idra's isle the god of gladness sheds his parting smile; o'er his own regions lingering, loves to shine, though there his altars are no more divine.
Page 108 - 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 pass'd away — is this the whole ? A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour ! The warrior's weapon and the sophist's stole Are sought in vam, and o'er each mouldering tower, Dim with the mist of years, gray flits the shade of power.
Page 191 - 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...
Page 183 - The mother of Sisera looked out at a window and cried through the lattice Why is his chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels of his chariots?
Page 202 - It was the night — and Lara's glassy stream The stars are studding, each with imaged beam; So calm, the waters scarcely seem to stray, And yet they glide like happiness away...
Page 216 - She was like me in lineaments — her eyes, Her hair, her features, all, to the very tone Even of her voice, they said were like to mine...