The works of lord Byron, Band 1 |
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Ergebnisse 1-5 von 67
Seite 15
... blood that warm'd his heart is shed ! And here no more shall human voice Be heard to rage , regret , rejoice . The last sad note that swell'd the gale Was woman's wildest funeral wail : That quench'd in silence , all is still , But the ...
... blood that warm'd his heart is shed ! And here no more shall human voice Be heard to rage , regret , rejoice . The last sad note that swell'd the gale Was woman's wildest funeral wail : That quench'd in silence , all is still , But the ...
Seite 22
... blood , When in the pass the rebels stood , And few return'd to tell the tale Of what befell in Parne's vale . The pistols which his girdle bore Were those that once a pasha wore , Which still , though gemm'd and boss'd with gold , Even ...
... blood , When in the pass the rebels stood , And few return'd to tell the tale Of what befell in Parne's vale . The pistols which his girdle bore Were those that once a pasha wore , Which still , though gemm'd and boss'd with gold , Even ...
Seite 27
... blood he spilt ; Yet strain'd within the sever'd hand Which quivers round that faithless brand ; His turban far behind him roll'd , And cleft in twain its firmest fold ; His flowing robe by falchion torn , And crimson as those clouds of ...
... blood he spilt ; Yet strain'd within the sever'd hand Which quivers round that faithless brand ; His turban far behind him roll'd , And cleft in twain its firmest fold ; His flowing robe by falchion torn , And crimson as those clouds of ...
Seite 29
... blood is spilt : " Woe to the Giaour ! for his the guilt . " * * * A turban ( 32 ) carved in coarsest stone , A pillar with rank weeds o'ergrown , Whereon can now be scarcely read The Koran verse that mourns the dead , Point out the ...
... blood is spilt : " Woe to the Giaour ! for his the guilt . " * * * A turban ( 32 ) carved in coarsest stone , A pillar with rank weeds o'ergrown , Whereon can now be scarcely read The Koran verse that mourns the dead , Point out the ...
Seite 30
... blood of all thy race ; There from thy daughter , sister , wife , At midnight drain the stream of life ; Yet loathe the banquet which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse : Thy victims ere they yet expire Shall know the demon for ...
... blood of all thy race ; There from thy daughter , sister , wife , At midnight drain the stream of life ; Yet loathe the banquet which perforce Must feed thy livid living corse : Thy victims ere they yet expire Shall know the demon for ...
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
accents Amaun apostolic palace arms band beneath Beppo blood Bonnivard bosom breast breath brow call'd calpac Cavalier Servente cheek Conrad dare dark dead death deed deep despair doom dread dream earth faithless fate fear feel fell fix'd foes gaze Giaffir Giaour glance grave grief Gulnare hand Haram hate hath head heard heart heaven Hellespont hope horsetails hour Houris knew Lara Lara's light limbs lips lonely look look'd Mazeppa Moslem Mussulman ne'er never night Note nought numbers o'er once Pacha pale Parisina pass'd perchance pride rest rose round scarce seem'd Selim she-the shore sigh silent sire slave smile sooth soul sound stamp'd steed stern stood strife tale tears tell thee thine thou thought Timariot turban Turkish turn'd Twas Venice voice wall wave Whate'er wild wind words wound youth Zuleika
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 321 - But in it there were three tall trees, And o'er it blew the mountain breeze, And by it there were waters flowing, And on it there were young flowers growing Of gentle breath and hue.
Seite 318 - A light broke in upon my brain, — It was the carol of a bird; It ceased, and then it came again, The sweetest song ear ever heard, And mine was thankful till my eyes Ran over with the glad surprise, And they that moment could not see I was the mate of misery.
Seite 321 - It might be months, or years, or days, I kept no count, I took no note, I had no hope my eyes to raise, And clear them of their dreary mote...
Seite 307 - ETERNAL spirit of the chainless mind ! Brightest in dungeons, Liberty, thou art ! For there thy habitation is the heart, — The heart which love of thee alone can bind ; And when thy sons to fetters are consigned, — To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind.
Seite 309 - MY hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears :+ My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's spoil, And mine has been the fate of those To whom the goodly earth and air Are bann'd, and barr'd — forbidden fare...
Seite 315 - Most cherish'd since his natal hour, His mother's image in fair face. The infant love of all his race.
Seite 93 - SLOW sinks, more lovely ere his race be run,' Along Morea's hills the setting sun ; Not, as in Northern climes, obscurely bright, But one unclouded blaze of living light ! O'er the hush'd deep the yellow beam he throws, Gilds the green wave, that trembles as it glows.
Seite 315 - Oh, God ! it is a fearful thing To see the human soul take wing In any shape, in any mood...