The poetical works of lord Byron, المجلد 5

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الصفحة 314 - bark Bay deep-mouth'd welcome as we draw near home; 'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark Our coming, and look brighter when we come;" 'Tis sweet to be awaken'd by the lark, Or lull'd by falling waters; sweet the hum Of bees, the voice of girls, the song of birds, The lisp of children, and their earliest words.
الصفحة 96 - hath anything fixed in his person that doth induce contempt, hath also a perpetual spur in himself to rescue and deliver himself from scorn ; therefore, all deformed persons are extreme hold ; first, as in their own defence, as being exposed to scorn, but in process of time by a general
الصفحة 283 - DON JUAN. CANTO THE FIRST. I WANT a hero : an uncommon want, When every year and month sends forth a new one, Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant, The age discovers he is not the true one: Of such as these I should not care to vaunt, I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don
الصفحة 399 - There's doubtless something in domestic doings Which forms, in fact, true love's antithesis; Romances paint at full length people's wooings, But only give a bust of marriages; For no one cares for matrimonial cooings. There's nothing wrong in a connubial kiss: Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife, He would have written sonnets all his life
الصفحة 421 - Thai tyrant was Miltiades! Oh ! that the present hour would lend Another despot of the kind! Such chains as his were sure to bind. 13. Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! On Suli's rock, and Parga's shore, Exists the remnant of a
الصفحة 334 - No more—no more—Oh! never more on me The freshness of the heart can fall like dew, Which out of all the lovely things we see Extracts emotions beautiful and new; Hived in our bosoms like the bag o' the bee Think'st thou the honey with those objects grew ? Alas ! 'twas not in them, but in thy power
الصفحة 421 - not for freedom to the Franks— They have a king who buys and sells : In native swords, and native ranks, The only hope of courage dwells : But Turkish force, and Latin fraud, Would break your shield, however broad.
الصفحة 314 - Sweet is the vintage, when the showering grapes In Bacchanal profusion reel to earth, Purple and gushing; sweet are our escapes From civic revelry to rural mirth; Sweet to the miser are his glittering heaps, Sweet to the father is his first-born's birth, Sweet is revenge—especially to women, Pillage to soldiers, prize-money to seamen.
الصفحة 426 - lay made haunted ground to me, How have I loved the twilight hour and thee ! The shrill cicalas, people of the pine, Making their summer lives one ceaseless song, Were the sole echoes, save my steed's and mine, And vesper bell's that rose the boughs along; The spectre huntsman of Onesti's line, His hell-dogs, and their chase, and the fair
الصفحة 388 - Alas ! the love of women ! it is known To be a lovely and a fearful thing; For all of theirs upon that die is thrown, And if 'tis lost, life hath no more to bring To them but mockeries of the past alone,

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