The complete works of lord Byron, repr. from the last London ed., containing considerable additions; to which is prefixed a life, by H. L. Bulwer, المجلد 1 |
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الصفحة xxv
... look like Medea alighted from her chariot , or the sibyl of the tempest that was rolling around her , the only living thing within hail at that moment except ourselves . On seeing me safe , she did not wait to greet me , as might have ...
... look like Medea alighted from her chariot , or the sibyl of the tempest that was rolling around her , the only living thing within hail at that moment except ourselves . On seeing me safe , she did not wait to greet me , as might have ...
الصفحة 27
... look'd o'er Troy , Mix'd Celtic memories with the Phrygian mount , And Highland linns with Castalie's clear fount . " " When very young , " ( he adds in a note ) " about eight years of age , after an attack of the scarlet fever at ...
... look'd o'er Troy , Mix'd Celtic memories with the Phrygian mount , And Highland linns with Castalie's clear fount . " " When very young , " ( he adds in a note ) " about eight years of age , after an attack of the scarlet fever at ...
الصفحة 45
... look- ing towards Windsor , and a tomb under a large tree ( bearing the name of Peachie or Peachey ) , where I used ... looks . Among the less sentimental effects of the critique upon his mind , he used to mention that , on the day he ...
... look- ing towards Windsor , and a tomb under a large tree ( bearing the name of Peachie or Peachey ) , where I used ... looks . Among the less sentimental effects of the critique upon his mind , he used to mention that , on the day he ...
الصفحة 47
... look very like Macpherson ; and we are positive they are pretty nearly as stupid and tire- some . It is a sort of privilege of poets to be egotists ; but they should “ use it as not abusing it ; " and particularly one who piques himself ...
... look very like Macpherson ; and we are positive they are pretty nearly as stupid and tire- some . It is a sort of privilege of poets to be egotists ; but they should “ use it as not abusing it ; " and particularly one who piques himself ...
الصفحة 50
... looks are cast , When taste and reason with those times are past . Now look around , and turn cach trifling page , Survey the precious works that please the age ! This truth at least let satire's self allow , No dearth of bards can be ...
... looks are cast , When taste and reason with those times are past . Now look around , and turn cach trifling page , Survey the precious works that please the age ! This truth at least let satire's self allow , No dearth of bards can be ...
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عبارات ومصطلحات مألوفة
Albanian Ali Pacha Athens bard beauty behold beneath better blood Boccaccio bosom breast breath Bride of Abydos brow Calmar Canto cheek Childe Harold dare dark dead dear death deeds deep dread dream earth Edinburgh Review fair fame fate fear feel fix'd foes gaze Giaour glance grave Greece Greek hand hate hath heard heart heaven honour hope hour lady land Lara Lara's less lips live lone look Lord Byron mind Morea Morgante mortal mountains muse ne'er never night o'er once Parisina pass'd passion Petrarch poem poet pride Romaic says scarce scene seem'd shine shore Siege of Corinth sigh slave smile song soul spirit stanzas tale tears thee thine thing thou thought tomb turn'd Twas Venice verse voice wave Whate'er wild words youth Zuleika εἰς καὶ νὰ τὴν τὸ
مقاطع مشهورة
الصفحة 146 - Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, Calm or convulsed, — in breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Dark heaving; — boundless, endless, and sublime. The image of eternity, the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
الصفحة 113 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gather'd then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush!
الصفحة 147 - And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be Borne, like thy bubbles, onward : from a boy I wantoned with thy breakers — they to me Were a delight : and if the freshening sea Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear, For I was as it were a child of thee, And trusted to thy billows far and near, And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here.
الصفحة 127 - 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...
الصفحة 142 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand — his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his droop'd 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 hail'd the wretch who won.
الصفحة 121 - He is an evening reveller, who makes His life an infancy, and sings his fill; At intervals, some bird from out the brakes Starts into voice a moment, then is still. There seems a floating whisper on the hill, But that is fancy, for the starlight dews All silently their tears of love instil, Weeping themselves away, till they infuse Deep into Nature's breast the spirit of her hues.
الصفحة 88 - To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ; To climb the trackless mountain all unseen, With the wild flock that never needs a fold ; Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; This is not solitude ; 'tis but to hold Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unroll'd.
الصفحة 279 - And not a word of murmur — not A groan o'er his untimely lot, A little talk of better days, A little hope my own...
الصفحة 136 - Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance ? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, ye Whose agonies are evils of a day ! — A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay.
الصفحة 257 - 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...