The Works of Lord Byron: Childe Harold's pilgrimageJohn Murray, 1821 |
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Page 115
... Petrarch , and , scarce less than they , The Bard of Prose , creative spirit ! he Of the Hundred Tales of love - where did they lay Their bones , distinguish'd from our common clay In death as life ? Are they resolved to dust , And have ...
... Petrarch , and , scarce less than they , The Bard of Prose , creative spirit ! he Of the Hundred Tales of love - where did they lay Their bones , distinguish'd from our common clay In death as life ? Are they resolved to dust , And have ...
Page 144
... Petrarch - hope of Italy- Rienzi ! last of Romans ! While the tree ( 55 ) Of Freedom's wither'd trunk puts forth a leaf , Even for thy tomb a garland let it be— The forum's champion , and the people's chief- Her new - born Numa thou ...
... Petrarch - hope of Italy- Rienzi ! last of Romans ! While the tree ( 55 ) Of Freedom's wither'd trunk puts forth a leaf , Even for thy tomb a garland let it be— The forum's champion , and the people's chief- Her new - born Numa thou ...
Page 200
... Petrarch ; and a Dissertation on an Historical Hypothesis of the Abbé de Sade : the first appeared about the year 1784 ; the other is inserted in the fourth volume of the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh , and both have ...
... Petrarch ; and a Dissertation on an Historical Hypothesis of the Abbé de Sade : the first appeared about the year 1784 ; the other is inserted in the fourth volume of the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh , and both have ...
Page 201
... Petrarch , who has trans- lated Lord Woodhouselee , renders the " femme tendre et sage " " raffinata civetta . " Riflessioni intorno a madonna Laura , p . 234 , vol . iii . ed . 1811 . 3 In a dialogue with St. Augustin , Petrarch has ...
... Petrarch , who has trans- lated Lord Woodhouselee , renders the " femme tendre et sage " " raffinata civetta . " Riflessioni intorno a madonna Laura , p . 234 , vol . iii . ed . 1811 . 3 In a dialogue with St. Augustin , Petrarch has ...
Page 202
... Petrarch was not platonic . The happiness which he prayed to possess but once and for a moment was surely not of the mind , ' and some- thing so very real as a marriage project , with one who has been idly called a shadowy nymph , may ...
... Petrarch was not platonic . The happiness which he prayed to possess but once and for a moment was surely not of the mind , ' and some- thing so very real as a marriage project , with one who has been idly called a shadowy nymph , may ...
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amidst amongst ancient Ariosto beauty beneath blood Boccaccio breast breath brow Cæsar called Canto Certaldo Childe Harold Childe Harold's Pilgrimage Chioza church Cicero Classical Tour clouds Comitium dead death Decameron deep divine Doge dust earth edit Egeria Emperor empire eyes fall fame feeling Ficus Ruminalis Flaminius Florence Florentine foes gaze Genoese glory gondoliers hath heart heaven hills Hist honour hyæna immortal inscription Italian Italy Julius Cæsar lake light live Livy memory mind mortal mountains Muses Nardini nymph o'er Padua pass passion Petrarch poet quæ Roman Rome round ruin scene seems seen shore soul spirit spot stand Stanza star statue Storia delle arti Suetonius Tasso tears temple temple of Romulus thee thine things thou thought throne tomb tree triumphs valley Venetians Venice voice walls waves wind Winkelmann woes wolf words writer καὶ
Popular passages
Page 91 - 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...
Page 20 - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Dewy with nature's tear-drops as they pass, Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave, — alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass...
Page 92 - She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean, Rising with her tiara of proud towers At airy distance, with majestic motion, A ruler of the waters and their powers : And such she was ; — her daughters had their dowers From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East Pour'd in her lap all gems in sparkling showers. In purple was she robed, and of her feast Monarchs partook, and deem'd their dignity increased.
Page 132 - Alas ! the lofty city ! and alas ! The trebly hundred triumphs ! and the day When Brutus made the dagger's edge surpass The conqueror's sword in bearing fame away ! Alas, for Tully's voice, and Virgil's lay, And Livy's pictured page ! — but these shall be Her resurrection; all beside — decay. Alas, for Earth, for never shall we see That brightness in her eye she bore when Rome was free!
Page 127 - Horribly beautiful ! but on the verge, From side to side, beneath the glittering morn, An Iris sits, amidst the infernal surge, Like Hope upon a death-bed, and, unworn Its steady dyes, while all around is torn By the distracted waters, bears serene Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn : Resembling, 'mid the torture of the scene, Love watching Madness with unalterable mien.
Page 104 - The moon is up, and yet it is not night — Sunset divides the sky with her — a sea Of glory streams along the Alpine height Of blue Friuli's mountains ; heaven is free From clouds, but of all colours seems to be Melted to one vast Iris of the West, Where the day joins the past Eternity; While, on the other hand, meek Dian's crest Floats through the azure air — an island of the blest...
Page 96 - Meantime I seek no sympathies, nor need ; The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree I planted, — they have torn me — and I bleed : I should have known what fruit would spring from such a seed.
Page 56 - Now, where the quick Rhone thus hath cleft his way, The mightiest of the storms hath ta'en his stand : For here, not one, but many make their play, And fling their thunder-bolts from hand to hand, Flashing and cast around : of all the band, The brightest through these parted hills hath fork'd His lightnings, — as if he did understand, That in such gaps as desolation work'd, There the hot shaft should blast whatever therein lurk'd.
Page 112 - God ! that thou wert in thy nakedness Less lovely or more powerful, and couldst claim Thy right, and awe the robbers back, who press To shed thy blood, and drink the tears of thy distress...
Page 44 - Or the pure bosom of its nursing lake, Which feeds it as a mother who doth make A fair but froward infant her own care, Kissing its cries away as these awake; — Is it not better thus our lives to wear, Than join the crushing crowd, doom'd to inflict or bear?