ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة
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adieu Albania Athens Bards beam Beauty behold beneath blest blood bosom breast breath brow Byron Calmar Canto Capel Lofft Childe Harold dare dark dead dear death deeds dread dream dwell earth Edinburgh Review fair falchion fame fate fear feel flame foes forget gaze Giaour glory glow grave Greece hand hate hath heart Heaven honour hope hour John Byron kiss Lady Lady Byron leave lips live Lord Lord Byron lov'd Love's lyre maid mind mountains Muse ne'er never Newstead Abbey night numbers o'er once Orla Pallas pass passion perchance poem praise pride published rhyme roll round scene shine shore sigh sleep smile song soothe soul spirit Stanza strain sweet tears thee thine thou thought throng tomb Trelawny twas twill Venice verse voice wave weep wild wing words young youth
الصفحة 277 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low — And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him — he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
الصفحة 285 - The armaments which thunderstrike the walls Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake And monarchs tremble in their capitals, The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make Their clay creator the vain title take Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war, — These are thy toys, and as the snowy flake They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar Alike the Armada's pride or spoils of Trafalgar.* Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee, — Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, what are they?
الصفحة 455 - To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar — for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard ! — May none those marks efface ! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
الصفحة 285 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore. There is society where none intrudes, By the deep sea, and music in its roar; I love not man the less, but nature more...
الصفحة 223 - Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet But hark! - that heavy sound breaks in once more, As if the clouds its echo would repeat; And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! Arm! Arm! it is - it is - the cannon's opening roar!
الصفحة 418 - And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord...
الصفحة 223 - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips — "The foe! They come! they come! " XXVI. And wild and high the "Cameron's gathering
الصفحة 452 - Alas! they had been friends in youth; But whispering tongues can poison truth; And constancy lives in realms above; And life is thorny; and youth is vain; And to be wroth with one we love Doth work like madness in the brain.
الصفحة 496 - There were giants in the earth in those days ; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown.
الصفحة 419 - When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this. The dew of the morning Sunk chill on my brow — It felt like the warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame: I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame. They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o'er me — Why wert thou so dear? They know not I knew thee, Who knew thee too...