The works of lord Byron

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الصفحة 7 - O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea, Our thoughts as boundless, and our souls as free, Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, Survey our empire, and behold our home!
الصفحة 282 - For he would never thus have flown, And left me twice so doubly lone, Lone — as the corse within its shroud. Lone — as a solitary cloud, A single cloud on a sunny day, While all the rest of heaven is clear, A frown upon the atmosphere That hath no business to appear When skies are blue and earth is gay.
الصفحة 273 - As to young eagles, being free) — A polar day, which will not see A sunset till its summer's gone, Its sleepless summer of long light, The snow-clad offspring of the sun: And thus he was as pure and bright, And in his natural spirit gay, With tears for nought but others...
الصفحة 271 - And through the crevice and the cleft Of the thick wall is fallen and left; Creeping o'er the floor so damp, Like a marsh's meteor lamp: And in each pillar there is a ring, And in each ring there is a chain; That iron is a cankering thing, For in these limbs its teeth remain, With marks that will not wear away, Till I have done with this new day...
الصفحة 269 - MY hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears :+ My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's spoil, And mine has been the fate of those To whom the goodly earth and air Are bann'd, and barr'd — forbidden fare...
الصفحة 278 - The last, the sole, the dearest link Between me and the eternal brink, Which bound me to my failing race, Was broken in this fatal place.
الصفحة 284 - I saw them — and they were the same, They were not changed like me in frame; I saw their thousand years of snow On high — their wide long lake below, And the blue Rhone in fullest flow...
الصفحة 8 - Oh, who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried, And danced in triumph o'er the waters wide, The exulting sense — the pulse's maddening play, That thrills the wanderer of that trackless way...
الصفحة 284 - But in it there were three tall trees, And o'er it blew the mountain breeze, And by it there were waters flowing, And on it there were young flowers growing Of gentle breath and hue.
الصفحة 280 - A light broke in upon my brain, — It was the carol of a bird; It ceased, and then it came again, The sweetest song ear ever heard...

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