The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals, and His Life, Band 4

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Seite 206 - I STOOD in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs, A palace and a prison on each hand ; I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Seite 64 - With regard to poetry in general*, I am convinced, the more I think of it, that he and all of us —Scott, Southey, Wordsworth, Moore, Campbell, I,—are all in the wrong, one as much as another; that we are upon a wrong revolutionary poetical system, or systems, not worth a damn in itself, and from which none but Rogers and Crabbe are free; and that the present and next generations will finally be of this opinion.
Seite 255 - Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters ; like a veil, Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail. Thus to their hopeless eyes...
Seite 45 - Here's a heart for every fate. " Though the ocean roar around me, Yet it still shall bear me on ; Though a desert should surround me, It hath springs that may be won.
Seite 206 - I stood in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs; A palace and a prison on each hand: I saw from out the wave her structures rise Aa from the stroke of the enchanter's wand: A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged lion's marble piles, Where Venice sat in state, throned in her hundred isles.
Seite 194 - Oh, Love! what is it in this world of ours Which makes it fatal to be loved? Ah why With cypress branches hast thou wreathed thy bowers, And made thy best interpreter a sigh? As those who dote on odours pluck the flowers, And place them on their breast — but place to die — Thus the frail beings we would fondly cherish Are laid within our bosoms but to perish.
Seite 253 - The Ferrara story is of a piece with all the rest of the Venetian manufacture,— you may judge. I only changed horses there since I wrote to you, after my visit in June last. ' Convent ' and ' carry off",' quotha ! and ' girl.' I should like to know who has been carried off, except poor dear me, I have been more ravished myself than anybody since the Trojan war...
Seite 115 - I was in relazione (liaison) with la Signora Segati, who was silly enough one evening at Dolo, accompanied by some of her female friends, to threaten her ; for the Gossips of the Villeggiatura had already found out, by the neighing of my horse one evening, that I used to 'ride late in the night
Seite 173 - You have had bore enough with me and mine already. " I greatly fear that the Guiccioli is going into a consumption, to which her constitution tends. Thus it is with every thing and every body for whom I feel any thing like a real attachment ; — ' War, death, or discord, doth lay siege to them.
Seite 45 - Here's a sigh to those who love me, And a smile to those who hate, And, whatever sky's above me, Here's a heart for every fate.

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