Childe Harold's PilgrimageCaldwell, 1899 - 270 頁 |
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第 1 到 3 筆結果,共 18 筆
第 16 頁
... , nor wrong these holy men . VIII . Yet ofttimes , in his maddest mirthful mood , Strange pangs would flash along Childe Harold's brow As if the memory of some deadly feud Or disappointed 16 Childe Harold's Pilgrimage .
... , nor wrong these holy men . VIII . Yet ofttimes , in his maddest mirthful mood , Strange pangs would flash along Childe Harold's brow As if the memory of some deadly feud Or disappointed 16 Childe Harold's Pilgrimage .
第 139 頁
... brow , And spurn the instruments thou wert to use Till they were turn'd unto thine overthrow : ' Tis but a worthless world to win or lose ; So hath it proved to thee , and all such lot who XLI . If , like a tower upon a headland. choose ...
... brow , And spurn the instruments thou wert to use Till they were turn'd unto thine overthrow : ' Tis but a worthless world to win or lose ; So hath it proved to thee , and all such lot who XLI . If , like a tower upon a headland. choose ...
第 211 頁
... brow supremely wore , Upon a far and foreign soil had grown , His life , his fame , his grave , though riflednot thine own . LVIII . Boccaccio to his parent earth bequeathed His dust , —and lies it not her Great among , With many a ...
... brow supremely wore , Upon a far and foreign soil had grown , His life , his fame , his grave , though riflednot thine own . LVIII . Boccaccio to his parent earth bequeathed His dust , —and lies it not her Great among , With many a ...
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常見字詞
banks bear beauty behold beneath blood blue bosom breast breath bright brow charms chief Childe clouds dark dead dear death deem deep doth dream dust dwell earth fair fall fame fate feel fire foes gaze Glory grave hand Harold hath heart heaven hills hope hour immortal Italy land leaves less light live lone look lord lost mark mind mortal mountain Nature never night o'er once pass passion past plain pride proud rise rock round ruin scarce scene seek seems seen shore shrine sigh smile song soul sound spirit spring stand star stream sweet tears thee thine things thou thought thousand till tomb tree turn vain voice walls waters waves wild wind woes young youth