The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals,John Murray, 1832 |
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Page 15
... hour of twilight ! - in the solitude Of the pine forest , and the silent shore Which bounds Ravenna's immemorial wood , Rooted where once the Adrian wave flow'd o'er , To where the last Cæsarean fortress stood , Evergreen forest ! which ...
... hour of twilight ! - in the solitude Of the pine forest , and the silent shore Which bounds Ravenna's immemorial wood , Rooted where once the Adrian wave flow'd o'er , To where the last Cæsarean fortress stood , Evergreen forest ! which ...
Page 23
... hour . But the benches are cramm'd , like a garden in flower , ( 1 ) [ " About the year 1781 , it was much the fashion for several ladies to have evening assemblies , where the fair sex might participate in conver- sation with literary ...
... hour . But the benches are cramm'd , like a garden in flower , ( 1 ) [ " About the year 1781 , it was much the fashion for several ladies to have evening assemblies , where the fair sex might participate in conver- sation with literary ...
Page 26
... hours To the torrent of trash which around him he pours , Pump'd up with such effort , disgorged with such labour , [ neighbour . That come — do not make me speak ill of one's Tra . I make you ! Ink . Yes , you ! I said nothing until ...
... hours To the torrent of trash which around him he pours , Pump'd up with such effort , disgorged with such labour , [ neighbour . That come — do not make me speak ill of one's Tra . I make you ! Ink . Yes , you ! I said nothing until ...
Page 31
... hour at their levy , On the rack of cross questions , by all the blue bevy . Hark ! Zounds , they'll be on us ; I know by the drone Of old Botherby's spouting ex - cathedrâ tone . Ay ! there he is at it . Poor Scamp ! better join Your ...
... hour at their levy , On the rack of cross questions , by all the blue bevy . Hark ! Zounds , they'll be on us ; I know by the drone Of old Botherby's spouting ex - cathedrâ tone . Ay ! there he is at it . Poor Scamp ! better join Your ...
Page 32
... hour of the twelve , be employ'd : The twelve , do I say ? -of the whole twenty - four , Is there one which I dare call my own any more ? What with driving and visiting , dancing and dining , What with learning , and teaching , and ...
... hour of the twelve , be employ'd : The twelve , do I say ? -of the whole twenty - four , Is there one which I dare call my own any more ? What with driving and visiting , dancing and dining , What with learning , and teaching , and ...
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Common terms and phrases
Angiolina aught Avogadori Bertram blood Bluem cause chief conspirators Council Council of Ten death Doge Doge of Venice ducal Duke duty earth English evil eyes father feelings Francesca FRANCESCA OF RIMINI Genoese hand hath head hear heart Heaven honour hour insult ISRAEL BERTUCCIO King knew Lady Blueb less letter Lioni lived Lord Byron Marino Faliero Michael Michel Steno ne'er never noble o'er offence opinions palace passion patrician person Philip Calendaro poem poet prince punishment Ravenna ROBERT SOUTHEY Saint Mark's Saint Peter Satan Satanic School Scamp scene senate sentence shame Signor soul Southey Southey's sovereign speak spirit sword thee thine things thought tragedy traitors treason Treviso true turn'd twas unto Venetian Venice Vision of Judgment Wat Tyler words wretch writings written youth
Popular passages
Page 209 - While round the armed bands Did clap their bloody hands ; He nothing common did, or mean, Upon that memorable scene, But with his keener eye The axe's edge did try ; Nor called the gods with vulgar spite To vindicate his helpless right, But bowed his comely head Down, as upon a bed.
Page 251 - The angels all were singing out of tune, And hoarse with having little else to do, Excepting to wind up the sun and moon, Or curb a runaway young star or two, Or wild colt of a comet, which too soon Broke out of bounds o'er the ethereal blue, Splitting some planet with its playful tail, As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale.
Page 8 - 1 viso; Ma solo un punto fu quel che ci vinse. Quando leggemmo il disiato riso Esser baciato da cotanto amante , Questi , che mai da me non fia diviso , La bocca mi baciò tutto tremante. Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse; Quel giorno più non vi leggemmo avante.
Page 15 - Sweet hour of twilight! — in the solitude Of the pine forest, and the silent shore Which bounds Ravenna's immemorial wood, Rooted where once the Adrian wave flow'd o'er, To where the last Caesarean fortress stood, Evergreen forest! which Boccaccio's lore And Dryden's lay made haunted ground...
Page 19 - OH, talk not to me of a name great in story ; The days of our youth are the days of our glory ; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.
Page 206 - Who kindlest and who quenchest suns ! — Attest ' I am not innocent, — but, are these guiltless ? I perish, but not unavenged ; far ages Float up from the abyss of time to be, And show these eyes, before they close, the doom Of this proud city ; and I leave my curse On her and hers forever...
Page 246 - She whipped two female prentices to death. And hid them in the coal-hole ; for her mind Shaped strictest plans of discipline. Sage schemes ! Such as Lycurgus taught, when at the shrine Of the Orthyan goddess he bade flog The little Spartans • such as erst chastised Our Milton when at college. For this act Did Brownrigg swing. Harsh laws ! But time shall come, When France shall reign, and laws be all repealed.
Page 11 - Alone we were, and no Suspicion near us. Oft-times by that reading Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue Fled from our alter'd cheek.
Page 39 - Boats," and "Waggons !" Oh ! ye shades Of Pope and Dryden, are we come to this ? That trash of such sort not alone evades Contempt, but from the bathos vast abyss Floats scumlike uppermost, and these Jack Cades Of sense and song above your graves may hiss — The "little boatman" and his "Peter Bell" Can sneer at him who drew "Achitophel !" T
Page 295 - He first sank to the bottom — like his works, But soon rose to the surface — like himself...