Ada sole daughter of my house and heart. Once more upon the waters! yet once more! I am as a weed Stanza 2. Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam to sail prevail. He who grown aged in this world of woe, In deeds, not years, piercing the depths of life,1 Years steal Fire from the mind as vigour from the limb, Ibid. Stanza 5. And life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim. There was a sound of revelry by night, The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men. Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, Stanza 8. Stanza 21 But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell' Did ye not hear it? No! 't was but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street. No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; To chase the glowing hours with flying feet. Stanza 22. He rush'd into the field, and foremost fighting fell. Stanza 23. And there was mounting in hot haste. Stanza 25. 1 See Sheridan, page 443. they come !" Or whispering with white lips, "The foe! They come ! Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 25. Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, Over the unreturning brave. Stanza 27. Battle's magnificently stern array. Stanza 28. And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on. Stanza 32. But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell. Stanza 42. He who ascends to mountain-tops shall find The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow; Must look down on the hate of those below. Stanza 45. The whiteness of his soul, and thus men o'er him wept. But there are wanderers o'er Eternity Stanza 57. Whose bark drives on and on, and anchor'd ne'er shall be. By the blue rushing of the arrowy Rhone. Stanza 70. Stanza 71. I live not in myself, but I become Portion of that around me;1 and to me 1 I am a part of all that I have met. - TENNYSON: Ulysses. All is concentr'd in a life intense, Where not a beam, nor air, nor leaf is lost, But hath a part of being. Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iii. Stanza 89. In solitude, where we are least alone.1 Stanza 90. The sky is changed, — and such a change! O night And storm and darkness! ye are wondrous strong, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among, Exhausting thought, Stanza 92. And hiving wisdom with each studious year. Stanza 107. Ibid. Stanza 113. Among them, but not of them; in a shroud Ibid. Canto iv. Stanza 1. Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles. Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy. The thorns which I have reap'd are of the tree I planted; they have torn me, and I bleed. Ibid. Stanza 3. I should have known what fruit would spring from such Oh for one hour of blind old Dandolo, The octogenarian chief, Byzantium's conquering foe!1 Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 12. There are some feelings time cannot benumb, Nor torture shake. Stanza 19. Striking the electric chain wherewith we are darkly bound. Stanza 23. The cold, the changed, perchance the dead, anew, few! Parting day Dies like the dolphin, whom each pang imbues With a new colour as it gasps away, Stanza 24. The last still loveliest, till 't is gone, and all is gray. The Ariosto of the North. Italia! O Italia! thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty." Fills The air around with beauty. Let these describe the undescribable. Stanza 29. Stanza 40. Stanza 42. Stanza 49. Stanza 53. Stanza 54. The starry Galileo with his woes. Ungrateful Florence! Dante sleeps afar, Like Scipio, buried by the upbraiding shore. Stanza 57. The poetry of speech. Stanza 58. The hell of waters! where they howl and hiss, And boil in endless torture. Stanza 69. Then farewell Horace, whom I hated so, 2 A translation of the famous sonnet of Filicaja: "Italia, Italia! O tu cui feo la sorte." O Rome! my country! city of the soul! Childe Harold's Pilgrimage. Canto iv. Stanza 78. The Niobe of nations! there she stands. Stanza 79. Yet, Freedom! yet thy banner, torn, but flying, Thou wert a beautiful thought, and softly bodied forth. Ibid. Alas! our young affections run to waste, Stanza 120. I see before me the gladiator lie. Stanza 140. There were his young barbarians all at play; Stanza 141. "While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand; When falls the Coliseum, Rome shall fall; Stanza 145 1 See Wordsworth, page 478. 2 Literally the exclamation of the pilgrims in the eighth century. |