The Life, Writings, Opinions, and Times of the Right Hon. George Gordon Noel Byron, Lord Byron: Including ... Anecdotes, and Memoirs of the Lives of the Most Eminent and Eccentric, Public and Noble Characters and Courtiers of the ... Age and Court of His Majesty King George the Fourth. In the Course of the Biography is Also Separately Given, Copious Recollections of the Lately Destroyed Ms. Originally Intended for Posthumous Publication, and Entitled: Memoirs of My Own Life and Times, Band 1

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Seite 83 - To live within himself; she was his life, The ocean to the river of his thoughts, Which terminated all: upon a tone, A touch of hers, his blood would ebb and flow, And his cheek change tempestuously— his heart Unknowing of its cause of agony.
Seite 60 - Near this spot Are deposited the Remains Of one Who Possessed Beauty Without Vanity, Strength without Insolence, Courage without Ferocity, And all the Virtues of Man Without his Vices. This Praise, which would be unmeaning flattery If inscribed over Human Ashes, Is but a just tribute to the Memory of "Boatswain," a Dog Who was born at Newfoundland, May, 1803, And died at Newstead Abbey Nov. 18, 1808.
Seite 264 - Should her lineaments resemble Those thou never more may'st see, Then thy heart will softly tremble With a pulse yet true to me. All my faults perchance thou knowest, All my madness none can know ; All my hopes, where'er thou goest, Wither, yet with thee they go. Every feeling hath been shaken ; Pride, which not a world could bow. Bows to thee — by thee forsaken, Even my soul forsakes me now...
Seite 169 - What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loved one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth, as I am now.
Seite 355 - As eager to anticipate their grave; And the sea yawn'd around her like a hell. And down she suck'd with her the whirling wave, Like one who grapples with his enemy, And strives to strangle him before he die.
Seite 264 - Pride — which not a world could bow — Bows to thee — by thee forsaken, Even my soul forsakes me now. But 'tis done — all words are idle — Words from me are vainer still ; But the thoughts we cannot bridle Force their way without the will. Fare thee well ! — thus disunited — Torn from every nearer tie — Seared in heart — and lone — and blighted — More than this, I scarce can die. A SKETCH FROM PRIVATE LIFE. "Honest — Honest lago ! If that thou be'st a devil, I cannot kill thee."...
Seite 304 - Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags 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 82 - Not by the sport of nature, but of man : These two, a maiden and a youth, were there Gazing — the one on all that was beneath Fair as herself — but the boy gazed on her ; And both were young, and one was beautiful : And both were young — yet not alike in youth. As the sweet moon on the horizon's verge, The maid was on the eve of womanhood ; The boy had fewer summers, but his heart Had far outgrown his years, and to his eye There was but one beloved face on earth, And that was shining on him...
Seite 61 - But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend, The first to welcome, foremost to defend, Whose honest heart is still his master's own, Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone...
Seite 312 - Ye toppling crags of ice! Ye avalanches, whom a breath draws down In mountainous o'erwhelming, come and crush me!

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