THAT WEAPON OF HER WEAKNESS SHE CAN WIELD, TO SAVE, SUBDUE, AT ONCE HER SPEAR AND SHIELD: IS midnight! On the mountains brown Evans ["The cold round moon shines deeply down!"] Bespangled with those isles of light, IN WOMAN'S EYE THE UNANSWERABLE TEAR! AVOID IT-VIRTUE EBBS AND WISDOM ERRS, TOO FONDLY GAZING ON THAT GRIEF OF HERS!"-LORD BYRON. BUT LOVE ITSELF COULD NEVER PANT FOR ALL THAT BEAUTY SIGHS TO GRANT,-BYRON) "BY THOSE THAT DEEPEST FEEL, IS ILL EXPREST-BYRON) A NIGHT SCENE IN GREECE. 85 Nor wished for wings to flee away, And echo answered from the hill, As rose the muezzin's voice in air Such as when winds and harp-strings meet, To mortal minstrelsy unknown. [From "The Siege of Corinth," stanza xi. "What can be finer than this THE INDISTINCTNESS OF THE SUFFERING BREAST."-BYRON. WITH HALF THE FERVOUR HATE BESTOWS UPON THE LAST EMBRACE OF FOES."-LORD BYRON, "IF SOLITUDE SUCCEED TO GRIEF, RELEASE FROM PAIN IS SLIGHT RELIEF;-(LORD BYRON) NO WORDS SUFFICE THE SECRET SOUL TO SHOW,-(BYRON) GEORGE GORDON, LORD BYRON. A BATTLE-PIECE. [Corinth was besieged by the Turks, under the Grand Vizier, in 1715, and carried by storm, after a fearful slaughter.] The horsetails are plucked from the ground, From its sheath; and they form, and but wait Tartar, and Spahi, and Turcoman, Strike your tents, and throng to the van; That the fugitive may flee in vain, When he breaks from the town; and none escape, FOR TRUTH DENIES ALL ELOQUENCE TO WOE."-BYRON. THE VACANT BOSOM'S WILDERNESS MIGHT THANK THE PANG THAT MADE IT LESS."-BYRON. 66 "THE IMMORTAL LIGHTS THAT LIVE ALONG THE SKY."-BYRON. A BATTLE-PIECE. The cannon are pointed, and ready to roar, The khan and the pachas are all at their post; When the culverin's signal is fired, then on; 87 "WHO WOULD BE DOOMED TO GAZE ON A SKY WITHOUT A CLOUD OR SUN?"-LORD BYRON. THESE PAGOD THINGS OF SABRE SWAY, WITH FRONTS OF BRASS AND FEET OF CLAY."-BYRON. "The horsetails are plucked from the ground, and the sword from its sheath."] A priest at her altars, a chief in her halls, Up to the skies with that wild halloo ! "THE KEENEST PANGS THE WRETCHED FIND ARE RAPTURE TO THE DREARY VOID,-(BYRON) 888 66 IS HUMAN LOVE THE GROWTH OF HUMAN WILL?"-BYRON. GEORGE GORDON, LORD BYRON. He who first downs with the red cross may crave His heart's dearest wish; let him ask it, and Thus uttered Coumourgi, the dauntless vizier; As the wolves that headlong go Though with fiery eyes, and angry roar, Thus against the wall they went, The ground whereon they moved no more; Like the mower's grass at the close of day,. As the spring-tides, with heavy plash, Huge fragments, sapped by the ceaseless flow, On the Alpine vales below; THE MIGHT, THE MAJESTY OF LOVEliness!"-LORD BYRON. THE LEAFLESS DESERT OF THE MIND, THE WASTE OF FEELINGS UNEMPLOYED."-LORD BYRON. |