Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A RomauntG.S. Appleton, 1851 - 287 pages |
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Page 6
... true knights " sans peur , " though not sans reproche . " If the story of the institution of the " Garter ” be not a fable , the knights of that order have for several centuries borne the badge of a Countess of Salisbury , of ...
... true knights " sans peur , " though not sans reproche . " If the story of the institution of the " Garter ” be not a fable , the knights of that order have for several centuries borne the badge of a Countess of Salisbury , of ...
Page 15
... true , nor wrong these holy men . VIII . Yet oft - times in his maddest mirthful mood Strange pangs would flash along Childe Harold's brow , As if the memory of some deadly feud Or disappointed passion lurk'd below : But this none knew ...
... true , nor wrong these holy men . VIII . Yet oft - times in his maddest mirthful mood Strange pangs would flash along Childe Harold's brow , As if the memory of some deadly feud Or disappointed passion lurk'd below : But this none knew ...
Page 33
... true : Sharp is the knife , and sudden is the stroke ; And sorely would the Gallic focman rue , If subtle poniards , wrapt beneath the cloke , Could blunt the sabre's edge , or clear the cannon's smoke . LI . At every turn Morena's ...
... true : Sharp is the knife , and sudden is the stroke ; And sorely would the Gallic focman rue , If subtle poniards , wrapt beneath the cloke , Could blunt the sabre's edge , or clear the cannon's smoke . LI . At every turn Morena's ...
Page 38
... here sojourns : Nought interrupts the riot , though in lieu Of true devotion monkish incense burns , And love and prayer unite , or rule the hour by turns . * CADIZ . LXVIII . The Sabbath comes , a 38 CANTO 1 . CHILDE HAROLD'S.
... here sojourns : Nought interrupts the riot , though in lieu Of true devotion monkish incense burns , And love and prayer unite , or rule the hour by turns . * CADIZ . LXVIII . The Sabbath comes , a 38 CANTO 1 . CHILDE HAROLD'S.
Page 47
... true , First to be free and last to be subdued : And if amidst a scene , a shock so rude , Some native blood was seen thy streets to dye ; A traitor only fell beneath the feud : Here all were noble , save Nobility ; None hugg'd a ...
... true , First to be free and last to be subdued : And if amidst a scene , a shock so rude , Some native blood was seen thy streets to dye ; A traitor only fell beneath the feud : Here all were noble , save Nobility ; None hugg'd a ...
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Common terms and phrases
Albania Ali Pacha amidst amongst ancient Ariosto Arqua Athens beauty behold beneath blood Boccaccio bosom breast breath brow C¿sar CANTO Childe Harold CHILDE HAROLD'S PILGRIMAGE Chioza church Cicero Comitium dark death deem'd deep doth dust dwell earth edit Egeria fair fall fame fate feel Ficus Ruminalis gaze glory gondoliers Greece Greek hand hath heart Heaven hills honour hope hour immortal Italian Italy Julius C¿sar lake land less light live Lord mind mortal mountains Nardini ne'er never o'er once pass pass'd passion Petrarch plain poet Pouqueville rock Roman Rome ruin scatter'd scene seems seen shore sigh smile song soul spirit spot STANZA Storia stream Suetonius Tasso tears temple thee thine things thou thought throne tomb triumph Turks tyrants valley Venetians Venice walls waves winds woes wolf words youth καὶ
Popular passages
Page 121 - And this is in the night. — Most glorious night ! Thou wert not sent for slumber ! let me be A sharer in thy fierce and far delight, — A portion of the tempest and of thee ! How the lit lake shines a phosphoric sea, And the big rain comes dancing to the earth ! And now again 'tis black, — and now the glee Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain-mirth, As if they did rejoice o'er a young earthquake's birth.
Page 120 - All heaven and earth are still— though not in sleep, But breathless, as we grow when feeling most; And silent, as we stand in thoughts too deep...
Page 119 - Ye stars ! which are the poetry of heaven ! If in your bright leaves we would read the fate Of men and empires, — 'tis to be forgiven, That in our aspirations to be great, Our destinies o'erleap their mortal state, And claim a kindred with you ; for ye are A beauty and a mystery, and create In us such love and reverence from afar, That fortune, fame, power, life, have named themselves a star.
Page 198 - Ye Elements ! — in whose ennobling stir I feel myself exalted — Can ye not Accord me such a being? Do I err In deeming such inhabit many a spot ? Though with them to converse can rarely be our lot.
Page 122 - Could I embody and unbosom now That which is most within me, — could I wreak My thoughts upon expression, and thus throw Soul, heart, mind, passions, feelings, strong or weak, All that I would have sought, and all I seek, Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe— into one word, And that one word were Lightning, I would speak ; But as it is, I live and die unheard, With a most voiceless thought, sheathing it as a sword.
Page 91 - Welcome to their roar! Swift be their guidance, wheresoe'er it lead !' Though the strain'd mast should quiver as a reed, And the rent canvas fluttering strew the gale, Still must I on : for I am as a weed, Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam, to sail Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail.
Page 100 - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshalling in arms, — the day Battle's magnificently stern array! The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent The earth is covered thick with other clay, Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent, Rider and horse, — friend, foe, — in one red burial blent!
Page 179 - Of its own beauty is the mind diseased, And fevers into false creation : — where, Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath seized ? In him alone. Can Nature show so fair...
Page 162 - The roar of waters ! — from the headlong height Velino cleaves the wave-worn precipice ; The fall of waters ! rapid as the light The flashing mass foams shaking the abyss; The hell of waters ! where they howl and hiss, And boil in endless torture ; while the sweat Of their great agony, wrung out from this Their Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jet That gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set, LXX.
Page 184 - But I have lived, and have not lived in vain ; My mind may lose its force, my blood its fire; And my frame perish even in conquering pain, But there is that within me which shall tire Torture and Time, and breathe when I expire...