Lord Byron and Some of his ContemporariesGeorg Olms Verlag |
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... head bob up and down in the water , like a buoy , I came away . Lord Byron was afterwards pleased to re- gret , that I had not stayed . He told me , that the sight of my volume at Harrow had been one of his incentives to write verses ...
... head bob up and down in the water , like a buoy , I came away . Lord Byron was afterwards pleased to re- gret , that I had not stayed . He told me , that the sight of my volume at Harrow had been one of his incentives to write verses ...
Сторінка 6
... head and counte- nance had a spirit and elevation in it , which though not unmixed with disquiet , gave him altogether a nobler look , than I ever knew him to have , before or since . His dress , which was black , with white trowsers ...
... head and counte- nance had a spirit and elevation in it , which though not unmixed with disquiet , gave him altogether a nobler look , than I ever knew him to have , before or since . His dress , which was black , with white trowsers ...
Сторінка 41
... head . If at any time , therefore , he ceased to love a woman's person , and found leisure to detect in her the vanities natural to a flattered beauty , he set no bounds to the light and coarse way in which he would speak of her . There ...
... head . If at any time , therefore , he ceased to love a woman's person , and found leisure to detect in her the vanities natural to a flattered beauty , he set no bounds to the light and coarse way in which he would speak of her . There ...
Сторінка 48
... head about truth and sincerity , for they would hinder his getting on in the world . This , doubtless , was rather intended to vent a spleen of his own , than to modify the opinions of the child ; but the peril was not the less , and I ...
... head about truth and sincerity , for they would hinder his getting on in the world . This , doubtless , was rather intended to vent a spleen of his own , than to modify the opinions of the child ; but the peril was not the less , and I ...
Сторінка 69
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acquaintance admired afterwards Albaro appeared Barbadoes beautiful believe Boccaccio body boys called captain character Charles Lamb critics delight doubt England English eyes face fancy father feel fond genius Genoa give hand handsome heard heart honour hope Horace Smith Hunt imagination Italian Italy knew lady Lady Byron laugh Leghorn Leigh Hunt Lerici less letters living look Lord Byron Lordship manner matter melancholy Moore nature never night noble occasion opinion Ovid Parisina passage perhaps person Pisa pleasure poem poet poetry pretended racter Ramsgate reader reason recollection respect Rimini seemed sense Shelley Shelley's side sort speak spect spirit spleen supposed talk taste tell thing thought tion told took truth turned verses vessel Via Reggio Voltaire wife wish word write young
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 434 - Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone : Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare; Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss, Though winning near the goal — yet, do not grieve; 101 She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss, For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair...
Сторінка 435 - Ode to a Nightingale MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thy happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
Сторінка 428 - Of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of knot-grass, And diamonded with panes of quaint device...
Сторінка 364 - Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure; Others I see whom these surround — Smiling they live, and call life pleasure; To me that cup has been dealt in another measure. Yet now despair itself is mild Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne, and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.
Сторінка 340 - The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.
Сторінка 435 - O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene...
Сторінка 364 - I see the Deep's untrampled floor With green and purple seaweeds strown ; I see the waves upon the shore, Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown. I sit upon the sands alone, — The lightning of the noontide ocean Is flashing round me, and a tone Arises from its measured motion, How sweet I did any heart now share in my emotion.
Сторінка 365 - Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory — Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved's bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.
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