Don Juan. Complete ed., with notes

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Seite 5 - I want a hero: an uncommon want, When every year and month sends forth a new one, Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant, The age discovers he is not the true one: Of such as these I should not care to vaunt, I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan — We all have seen him, in the Pantomime Sent to the devil, somewhat ere his time.
Seite 382 - Between two worlds life hovers like a star, Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge. How little do we know that which we are! How less what we may be! The eternal surge Of time and tide rolls on, and bears afar Our bubbles; as the old burst, new emerge, Lash'd from the foam of ages; while the graves Of empires heave but like some passing waves.
Seite 44 - Man's love is of man's life a thing apart, Tis woman's whole existence; man may range The court, camp, church, the vessel, and the mart. Sword, gown, gain, glory, offer in exchange Pride, fame, ambition, to fill up his heart, And few there are whom these cannot estrange; Men have all these resources, we but one, To love again, and be again undone.
Seite 117 - tis the hour of prayer ! Ave Maria ! 'tis the hour of love ! Ave Maria ! may our spirits dare Look up to thine and to thy Son's above ! Ave Maria ! oh, that face so fair ! Those downcast eyes beneath the Almighty dove — What though 'tis but a pictured image ? — strike — That painting is no idol, — 'tis too like.
Seite 107 - These Oriental writings on the wall, Quite common in those countries, are a kind Of monitors adapted to recall, Like skulls at Memphian banquets, to the mind The words which shook Belshazzar in his hall, And took his kingdom from him : You will find, Though sages may pour out their wisdom's treasure, There is no sterner moralist than Pleasure.
Seite 112 - My country ? On thy voiceless shore The heroic lay is tuneless now — The heroic bosom beats no more ! And must thy lyre, so long divine...
Seite 17 - Her glossy hair was cluster'd o'er a brow Bright with intelligence, and fair, and smooth; Her eyebrow's shape was like the aerial bow, Her cheek all purple with the beam of youth, Mounting, at times, to a transparent glow, As if her veins ran lightning...
Seite 281 - On! on! through meadows, managed like a garden, A paradise of hops and high production ; For, after years of travel by a bard in Countries of greater heat, but lesser suction, A green field is a sight which makes him pardon The absence of that more sublime construction, Which mixes up vines — olives — precipices — Glaciers— volcanoes — oranges and ices.
Seite 20 - Then there were sighs, the deeper for suppression, And stolen glances, sweeter for the theft, And burning blushes, though for no transgression, Tremblings when met, and restlessness when left...
Seite 384 - I merely mean to say what Johnson said. That in the course of some six thousand years, All nations have believed that from the dead A visitant at intervals appears ; And what is strangest upon this strange head, Is, that whatever bar the reason rears 'Gainst such belief, there's something stronger still In its behalf, let those deny who will.

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