Childe Harold's pilgrimage: A romaunt : and other poems
Printed for John Murray, ...; William Blackwood, Edinburgh; and John Cumming, Dublin. By Thomas Davison, 1812 - 226 من الصفحات
ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة
لم نعثر على أي مراجعات في الأماكن المعتادة.
Abydos Achelous Albania amongst ancient Anna Comnena Aristaenetus Arnaout Athenians Athens beautiful behold beneath blood bosom breast Caimacam Caliriote caloyer charms Childe Harold clime Constantinople Coray dark dear deem'd dialect doth dread dwell E'yw earth Edinburgh Review Epirus ev'n fair French gaze glorious Greece Greeks hand hast hath heard heart Hellenic honour hope hour Joannina ladies land Leander live lonely Lord lost lov'd Macedon maid modern mortal Moslem mountains native ne'er never night o'er once Pacha pass pass'd perchance Pindus poem Polyzois Pouqueville Psalida racter rock Romaic scene shore shrine sigh silent skies smile song sooth soul Spain spot Stanza sweet taught tear Thebes thee thine thing thou art Thrasybulus Thyrza tongue translation Troad Turkish Turks Wallachia wave Waywode weep Zitza
الصفحة 102 - Hereditary bondsmen ! know ye not Who would be free themselves must strike the blow? By their right arms the conquest must be wrought? Will Gaul or Muscovite redress ye ? No ! True, they may lay your proud despoilers low, But not for you will freedom's altars flame. Shades of the Helots ! triumph o'er your foe ! Greece! change thy lords, thy state is still the same; Thy glorious day is o'er, but not thine years of shame.
الصفحة 246 - Who didst not change through all the past, And canst not alter now. The love where Death has set his seal, Nor age can chill, nor rival steal, Nor falsehood disavow: And, what were worse, thou canst not see Or wrong, or change, or fault in me. The better days of life were ours; The worst can be but mine: The sun that cheers, the storm that lowers, Shall never more be thine. The silence of that dreamless sleep I envy now too much to weep; Nor need I to repine That all those charms have pass'd away,...
الصفحة 14 - And now I'm in the world alone, Upon the wide, wide sea : But why should I for others groan, When none will sigh for me ? Perchance my dog will whine in vain, Till fed by stranger hands ; But long ere I come back again He'd tear me where he stands.
الصفحة 104 - Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild; Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields, Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, And still his...
الصفحة 101 - Fair Greece ! sad relic of departed worth ! Immortal, though no more ; though fallen, great! Who now shall lead thy scatter'd children forth, And long accustom'd bondage uncreate ? Not such thy sons who whilome did await. The hopeless warriors of a willing doom. In bleak Thermopylae's sepulchral strait — Oh ! who that gallant spirit shall resume, Leap from Eurota's banks, and call thee from the tomb ? LXXIV.
الصفحة 219 - The whole distance, from the place whence we started to our landing on the other side, including the length we were carried by the current, was computed by those on board the frigate at upwards of four English miles, though the actual breadth is barely one. The rapidity of the current is such that no boat can row directly across...
الصفحة 109 - 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.
الصفحة 261 - twill impart Some pangs to view his happier lot : But let them pass — Oh ! how my heart Would hate him if he loved thee not ! When late I saw thy favourite child, I thought my jealous heart would break ; But when the unconscious infant smiled, I kiss'd it for its mother's sake.