The Works of the Right Honourable Lord Byron: Prisoner of Chillon. Manfred. Lament of Tasso, &cJohn Murray, 1818 |
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... round about the wave enthralls : 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 , 110 We heard it ripple night and day ; Sounding o'er 10 THE PRISONER ...
... round about the wave enthralls : 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 , 110 We heard it ripple night and day ; Sounding o'er 10 THE PRISONER ...
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... round me as before , I saw the glimmer of the sun Creeping as it before had done , But through the crevice where it came That bird was perch'd , as fond and tame , 260 And tamer than upon the tree ; A lovely bird C 2 THE PRISONER OF ...
... round me as before , I saw the glimmer of the sun Creeping as it before had done , But through the crevice where it came That bird was perch'd , as fond and tame , 260 And tamer than upon the tree ; A lovely bird C 2 THE PRISONER OF ...
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... round the pillars one by one , Returning where my walk begun , Avoiding only , as I trod , My brothers ' graves without a sod ; For if I thought with heedless tread My step profaned their lowly bed , 300 310 My breath came gaspingly and ...
... round the pillars one by one , Returning where my walk begun , Avoiding only , as I trod , My brothers ' graves without a sod ; For if I thought with heedless tread My step profaned their lowly bed , 300 310 My breath came gaspingly and ...
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... round their blazing homes To look once more into each other's face ; Happy were those who dwelt within the eye Of the volcanos , and their mountain - torch : A fearful hope was all the world contain'd ; Forests were set on fire - but ...
... round their blazing homes To look once more into each other's face ; Happy were those who dwelt within the eye Of the volcanos , and their mountain - torch : A fearful hope was all the world contain'd ; Forests were set on fire - but ...
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... desolation , compass'd round With Hatred and Contention ; Pain was mix'd In all which was served up to him , until Like to the Pontic monarch of old days , 180 190 He fed on poisons , and they had no power 54 THE DREAM .
... desolation , compass'd round With Hatred and Contention ; Pain was mix'd In all which was served up to him , until Like to the Pontic monarch of old days , 180 190 He fed on poisons , and they had no power 54 THE DREAM .
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Загальні терміни та фрази
ABBOT Alps answer Arimanes ASTARTE beautiful BEN JONSON beneath bird blood Bonnivard breath brow Cantos castle chain CHAMOIS HUNTER change came o'er clay clouds cold curse darkness death despair destiny doth dread dream dungeon dwell earth Edition eternal Exit MANFRED eyes fatal fear feel Ferrara fetters Gadara Geneve grave grief hath heart heaven her's HERMAN hour immortal LAMENT OF TASSO light live look LORD LORD BYRON MANUEL mind mix'd mortal mountain NEMESIS night nivard o'er the spirit ocean Pausanias pause perish'd Poem PRISONER OF CHILLON qu'il rise SCENE shadow slumber smile solitude soul speak star stood strange sunbow's tears thee thine things THOMAS CAMPBELL thou art thou didst thou dost thoughts thyself torrent torture twas twere Twill voice walls WALTER SCOTT wandering wave WILLIAM GIFFORD wind WITCH words wreck wretched ΜΑΝ Аввот
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Сторінка 21 - For he would never thus have flown, And left me twice so doubly lone, — Lone — as the corse within its shroud, Lone — as a solitary cloud, A single cloud on a sunny day, While all the rest of heaven is clear, A frown upon the atmosphere, That hath no business to appear When skies are blue, and earth is gay.
Сторінка 2 - To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar — for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard ! — May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
Сторінка 15 - He faded, and so calm and meek, So softly worn, so sweetly weak, So tearless, yet so tender, kind, And grieved for those he left behind ; With all the while a cheek whose bloom Was as a mockery of the tomb, Whose tints as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray...
Сторінка 6 - And in each pillar there is a ring, And in each ring there is a chain; That iron is a cankering thing, For in these limbs its teeth remain...
Сторінка 85 - Though thy slumber may be deep Yet thy spirit shall not sleep; There are shades which will not vanish, There are thoughts thou canst not banish...
Сторінка 15 - ... as gently sunk away As a departing rainbow's ray — An eye of most transparent light, That almost made the dungeon bright, And not a word of murmur — not A groan o'er his untimely lot, — A little talk of better days, A little hope my own...
Сторінка 27 - With spiders I had friendship made, And watched them in their sullen trade; Had seen the mice by moonlight play — And why should I feel less than they? We were all inmates of one place, And I, the monarch of each race, Had power to kill; yet, strange to tell! In quiet we had learned to dwell. My very chains and I grew friends, So much a long communion tends To make us what we are: — even I Regained my freedom with a sigh.
Сторінка 52 - That in the antique oratory shook His bosom in its solitude; and then — As in that hour — a moment o'er his face The tablet of unutterable thoughts Was traced — and then it faded as it came...
Сторінка 30 - Though the day of my destiny's over, And the star of my fate hath declined, Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could find ; Though thy soul with my grief was acquainted, It shrunk not to share it with me, And the love which my spirit hath painted It never hath found but in thee.
Сторінка 50 - Boy was sprung to manhood: in the wilds Of fiery climes he made himself a home, And his Soul drank their sunbeams: he was girt With strange and dusky aspects; he was not Himself like what he had been; on the sea And on the shore he was a wanderer; There was a mass of many images Crowded like waves upon me...