Childe Harold's pilgrimage [cantos 1 and 2, with other poems. Wanting pp |
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第 1 到 5 筆結果,共 17 筆
第 14 頁
... hail the main and skies , But not my mother Earth . Deserted is my own good hall , Its hearth is desolate ; Wild weeds are gathering on the wall My dog howls at the gate . 3 . " Come hither , hither , my little 14 Canto I. CHILDE HAROLD'S.
... hail the main and skies , But not my mother Earth . Deserted is my own good hall , Its hearth is desolate ; Wild weeds are gathering on the wall My dog howls at the gate . 3 . " Come hither , hither , my little 14 Canto I. CHILDE HAROLD'S.
第 28 頁
... wall ? — Ne barrier wall , ne river deep and wide , Ne horrid crags , nor mountains dark and tall , Rise like the rocks that part Hispania's land from Gaul : XXXIII . But these between a silver streamlet glides , And scarce a name ...
... wall ? — Ne barrier wall , ne river deep and wide , Ne horrid crags , nor mountains dark and tall , Rise like the rocks that part Hispania's land from Gaul : XXXIII . But these between a silver streamlet glides , And scarce a name ...
第 35 頁
... walls . XLVII . Not so the rustic - with his trembling mate He lurks , nor casts his heavy eye afar , Lest he should view his vineyard desolate , Blasted below the dun hot breath of war . No more beneath soft Eve's consenting star ...
... walls . XLVII . Not so the rustic - with his trembling mate He lurks , nor casts his heavy eye afar , Lest he should view his vineyard desolate , Blasted below the dun hot breath of war . No more beneath soft Eve's consenting star ...
第 40 頁
... wall ? 11 LVII . Yet are Spain's maids no race of Amazons , But form'd for all the witching arts of love : Though thus in arms they emulate her sons , And in the horrid phalanx dare to move , " Tis but the tender fierceness of the dove ...
... wall ? 11 LVII . Yet are Spain's maids no race of Amazons , But form'd for all the witching arts of love : Though thus in arms they emulate her sons , And in the horrid phalanx dare to move , " Tis but the tender fierceness of the dove ...
第 45 頁
... walls of white : Though not to one dome circumscribeth she Her worship , but , devoted to her rite , A thousand altars rise , for ever blazing bright . LXVII . From morn till night , from night till startled Morn Peeps blushing on the ...
... walls of white : Though not to one dome circumscribeth she Her worship , but , devoted to her rite , A thousand altars rise , for ever blazing bright . LXVII . From morn till night , from night till startled Morn Peeps blushing on the ...
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常見字詞
Acarnania Albania Albanian Ali Pacha amongst ancient Arnaout Athens aught beautiful behold beneath blood bosom breast Caimacam charms Childe Harold Childe Harold's Pilgrimage clime Constantinople Coray dark dear deem'd doth dread dream earth Epirus ev'n fair feel gaze Giaour Greece Greeks hand hath heart honour hope hour land Leander live lonely Lord lov'd maid mountains ne'er never o'er once Pacha pang pass'd Pindus Pouqueville rock Romaic scene shore shrine sigh slave smile song sooth soul Spain Stanza sweet tear thee thine thing Thornton thou art thou hast translation Turkish Turks wave weep youth Zitza ἀπὸ Ας δὲ δὲν δὲν εἶναι Διὰ νὰ εἶναι εἰς τὴν εἰς τὸ Ελλήνων ἐν ἕνα ἡμεῖς θέλει καὶ κὴ με νὰ οἱ πῶς σᾶς σε τὰ τὰς τῇ τῆς τὸ τὸν τῶν ὡς
熱門章節
第 107 頁 - Hereditary bondsmen ! know ye not Who would be free themselves must strike the blow? By their right arms the conquest must be wrought? Will Gaul or Muscovite redress ye? no!
第 14 頁 - Adieu, adieu ! my native shore Fades o'er the waters blue ; The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar, And shrieks the wild sea-mew. Yon sun that sets upon the sea We follow in his flight: Farewell awhile to him and thee, My native Land— Good Night!
第 111 頁 - Athens' children are with hearts endued, When Grecian mothers shall give birth to men, Then may'st thou be restored ; but not till then. A thousand years scarce serve to form a state ; An hour may lay it in the dust : and when Can man its shatter'd splendour renovate, Recall its virtues back, and vanquish Time and Fate?
第 78 頁 - midst the crowd, the hum, the shock of men, To hear, to see, to feel, and to possess, And roam along, the world's tired denizen, With none who bless us, none whom we can bless; Minions of splendour shrinking from distress ! None that, with kindred consciousness endued, If we were not, would seem to smile the less Of all that flatter'd, follow'd, sought, and sued; This is to be alone; this, this is solitude!
第 66 頁 - Ancient of days ! august Athena ! where, Where are thy men of might, thy grand in soul? Gone, — glimmering through the dream of things that were : First in the race that led to glory's goal, They won, and passed away, — is this the whole?
第 114 頁 - The flying Mede, his shaftless broken bow; The fiery Greek, his red pursuing spear; Mountains above, Earth's, Ocean's plain below; Death in the front, Destruction in the rear! Such was the scene— what now remaineth here? What sacred trophy marks the hallow'd ground, Recording Freedom's smile and Asia's tear?
第 68 頁 - Look on its broken arch, its ruined wall, Its chambers desolate, and portals foul : Yes, this was once Ambition's airy hall, The Dome of Thought, the Palace of the Soul...
第 233 頁 - As stars that shoot along the sky Shine brightest as they fall from high. As once I wept, if I could weep, My tears might well be shed, To think I was not near to keep One vigil o'er thy bed, To gaze — how fondly ! on thy face, To fold thee in a faint embrace, Uphold thy drooping head ; And show that love, however vain, Nor thou nor I can feel again.
第 77 頁 - 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.
第 32 頁 - Flashing afar, — and at his iron feet Destruction cowers to mark what deeds are done ; For on this morn three potent nations meet, To shed before his shrine the blood he deems most sweet.