The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals and His Life, Band 9

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Seite 155 - that the paragraph containing the simile of the scorpion was imagined in his sleep. It forms, therefore, a pendant to the "psychological curiosity," beginning with those exquisitely musical lines : — " A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw; It was an Abyssinian maid,'* &c. The whole of which, Mr. Coleridge says, was composed by him during a
Seite 189 - the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime ? Know ye the land of the cedar and vine, [shine; Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppressed with perfume, Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gul
Seite 86 - of this poetical triumvirate. I am only surprised to see him in such good company. *' Such things, we know, are neither rich nor rare, But wonder how the devil he came there." The trio are well defined in the sixth proposition of Euclid : " Because, in the triangles DBC, ACB,
Seite ii - among Leaps the live thunder! Not from one lone cloud* But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud!
Seite 15 - To be the nothing that I was Ere born to life and living woe I Count o'er the joys thine hours have seen, Count o'er thy days from anguish free, And know, whatever thou hast been. 'Tis something better not to be. STANZAS. [" AND THOU ART DEAD,
Seite 313 - xx. He turn'd not—spoke not—sunk not—fix'd his look, And set the anxious frame that lately shook : He gazed — how long we gaze despite of pain, And know, but dare not own, we gaze in vain ! In life itself she was so still and fair, That death with gentler aspect wither'd there ; And the cold flowers
Seite 182 - had she but an earthly grave, This breaking heart and throbbing head Should seek and share her narrow bed. (') She was a form of life and light, That, seen, became a part of sight; And rose, where'er I turn'd mine eye, The Morning-star of Memory!
Seite 101 - 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 ; On old yEgina's rock and Hydra'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.
Seite 81 - Caleb Quotem says) puts me in mind' of a certain couplet, which Mr. Campbell will find in a writer for whom he, and his school, have no small contempt: — ' E'en copious Dryden wanted, or forgot, The last and greatest art —the art to blot
Seite ii - and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman 1 Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling

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