The Works of Lord Byron, 5 tomas

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488 psl. - A king sate on the rocky brow Which looks o'er sea-born Salamis; And ships, by thousands, lay below, And men in nations — all were his!
75 psl. - The appearance instantaneously disclosed, Was of a mighty city— boldly say A wilderness of building, sinking far And self-withdrawn into a wondrous depth, Far sinking into splendour — without end! Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold, With alabaster domes, and silver spires, And blazing terrace upon terrace, high Uplifted ; here, serene pavilions bright In avenues disposed : there towers begirt With battlements that on their restless fronts Bore stars — illumination of all gems...
xiv psl. - The chariots shall rage in the streets, they shall justle one against another in the broad ways: they shall seem like torches, they shall run like the lightnings.
214 psl. - By tyrannous threats to force you into faith 'Gainst all external sense and inward feeling: Think and endure — and form an inner world In your own bosom — where the outward fails; So shall you nearer be the spiritual Nature, and war triumphant with your own.
213 psl. - What though the field be lost? All is not lost; the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield: And what is else not to be overcome?
431 psl. - Whosoever hath any thing fixed in his person that doth induce contempt, hath also a perpetual spur in himself to rescue and deliver himself from scorn...
107 psl. - The waves as they arose, and prouder still The loftier they uplifted me ; and oft, In wantonness of spirit, plunging down Into their green and glassy gulfs, and making My way to shells and sea-weed, all unseen By those above, till they...
474 psl. - Neither time, nor distance, nor grief, nor age, can ever diminish my veneration for him, who is the great moral poet of all times, of all climes, of all feelings, and of all stages of existence.
541 psl. - But I have sinuous shells of pearly hue Within, and they that lustre have imbibed In the sun's palace-porch, where when unyoked His chariot-wheel stands midway in the wave: Shake one and it awakens, then apply Its polisht lips to your attentive ear, And it remembers its august abodes, And murmurs as the ocean murmurs there.
537 psl. - He who first met the Highlands' swelling blue Will love each peak that shows a kindred hue, Hail in each crag a friend's familiar face, And clasp the mountain in his mind's embrace. Long have I...

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