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Abbey adventures affair afterwards Albanian appeared arrived Athens beauty Brême Bride of Abydos canto cause Cephalonia CHAPTER character Childe Harold Christian circumstances Constantinople Countess Guiccioli course curious described Doctor Don Juan effect English expressed eyes fancy feelings felt genius Genoa gentleman Giaour Greece Greek Guiccioli heard heart Hobhouse honour Hunt imagination impression incident Italian Joannina kind Lady Byron letter living Lord Byron Lordship Manfred manner Marco Botzaris ment mind Missolonghi Moore morning mother mountain nature never Newstead Newstead Abbey night o'er object occasion opinion Pashaw passage passed passion Patras perhaps person Pisa poem poet poetical poetry possessed Prevesa probably rank Ravenna recollect religion remarkable replied residence respect satire scene seen sent sentiment Smyrna spirit Suliotes thing thought tion took travellers Turks Venice verses vizier young
Page 129 - Such is the aspect of this shore ; 'Tis Greece, but living Greece no more ! So coldly sweet, so deadly fair, We start, for soul is wanting there.
Page 147 - As it slipp'd through their jaws, when their edge grew dull, As they lazily mumbled the bones of the dead, When they scarce could rise from the spot where they fed; So well had they broken a lingering fast With those who had fallen for that night's repast.
Page 128 - Morea's hills the setting sun; not as in northern climes obscurely bright, but one unclouded blaze of living light : o'er the hushed deep the yellow beam he throws, gilds the green wave that trembles as it glows. On old jEgina's rock and Idra's isle the god of gladness sheds his parting smile; o'er his own regions lingering, loves to shine, though there his altars are no more divine.
Page 108 - 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 pass'd away — is this the whole ? A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour ! The warrior's weapon and the sophist's stole Are sought in vam, and o'er each mouldering tower, Dim with the mist of years, gray flits the shade of power.
Page 191 - I saw him stand Before an Altar — with a gentle bride ; Her face was fair, but was not that which made The Starlight of his Boyhood...
Page 183 - The mother of Sisera looked out at a window and cried through the lattice Why is his chariot so long in coming? why tarry the wheels of his chariots?
Page 202 - It was the night — and Lara's glassy stream The stars are studding, each with imaged beam; So calm, the waters scarcely seem to stray, And yet they glide like happiness away...
Page 216 - She was like me in lineaments — her eyes, Her hair, her features, all, to the very tone Even of her voice, they said were like to mine...