The Island: Canto II. (Lord George Gordon Byron Poems)
I.How pleasant were the songs of Toobonai,When Summer's Sun went down the coral bay!Come, let us to the islet's softest ...
I.How pleasant were the songs of Toobonai,When Summer's Sun went down the coral bay!Come, let us to the islet's softest ...
It is the hour when from the boughs The nightingale's high note is heard;It is the hour when lovers' vows Seem sweet ...
I.White as a white sail on a dusky sea,When half the horizon 's clouded and half free,Fluttering between the dun ...
I.The morning watch was come; the vessel layHer course, and gently made her liquid way;The cloven billow flashed from off ...
I.The fight was o'er; the flashing through the gloom,Which robes the cannon as he wings a tomb,Had ceased; and sulphury ...
'It is the voice of years that are gone!they roll before me with all their deeds.'~OSSIANNewstead! fast-falling, once-resplendent dome! Religion's shrine! ...
'Expends Annibalem:--quot libras in duce summoInvenies?~JUVENAL., Sat. X.I.Tis done--but yesterday a King! And arm'd with Kings to strive--And now thou art ...
In one dread night our city saw, and sigh'd,Bow'd to the dust, the Drama's tower of prideIn one short hour ...
Father of Light! great God of Heaven! Hear'st thou the accents of despair?Can guilt like man's be e'er forgiven? Can vice atone ...
Without a stone to mark the spot, And say, what Truth might well have said,By all, save one, perchance forgot, Ah! wherefore ...
Time! on whose arbitrary wing The varying hours must flag or fly,Whose tardy winter, fleeting spring, But drag or drive us on ...
Fill the goblet again! for I never beforeFelt the glow which now gladdens my heart to its core;Let us drink!--who ...
If sometimes in the haunts of men Thine image from my breast may fade,The lonely hour presents again The semblance of thy ...
Ah! heedless girl! why thus disclose What ne'er was meant for other ears:Why thus destroy thine own repose And dig the source ...
When some proud son of man returns to earth,Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth,The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp ...
Oh, Mariamne! now for theeThe heart of which thou bled'st is bleeding;Revenge is lost in agony,And wild remorse to rage ...
Eliza, what fools are the Mussulman sect, Who to woman deny the soul's future existence!Could they see thee, Eliza, they'd own ...
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