Lord Byron as a Satirist in Verse, Volumen1

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Columbia University Press, 1912 - 228 páginas
A dissertation thesis discussing the use of satire in Byron's poetry.

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Página 178 - All, when life is new, Commence with feelings warm and prospects high ; But time strips our illusions of their hue, And one by one in turn, some grand mistake Casts off its bright skin, yearly, like the snake.
Página 169 - But never mind;—" God save the king!" and kings! For if he don't, I doubt if men will longer — I think I hear a little bird, who sings The people by and by will be the stronger...
Página 168 - Yet, Freedom ! yet thy banner, torn, but flying, Streams like the thunder-storm against the wind ; Thy trumpet voice, though broken now and dying, The loudest still the tempest leaves behind ; Thy tree...
Página 34 - Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men. Oh! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Página 168 - For I will teach, if possible, the stones To rise against Earth's tyrants. Never let it Be said that we still truckle unto thrones; But ye - our children's children!
Página 173 - then play out the play Ye villains ! and, above all, keep a sharp eye Much less on what you do than what you say : Be hypocritical, be cautious, be Not what you seem, but always what you see.
Página 182 - Tis pity learned virgins ever wed With persons of no sort of education, Or gentlemen, who, though...
Página 195 - The fools who flock'd to swell or see the show, Who cared about the corpse? The funeral Made the attraction, and the black the woe. There...
Página 14 - I touch thee! but with honest zeal; To rouse the Watchmen of the public Weal, To Virtue's work provoke the tardy Hall, And goad the Prelate slumb'ring in his Stall.
Página 86 - Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run, Along Morea's hills the setting sun: Not, as in northern climes, obscurely bright, But one unclouded blaze of living light!

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