From “Hebrew Melodies”
THE ASSYRIAN came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like...
From “Cato,” Act II. Sc. 1.
MY voice is still for war.
Gods! can a Roman senate long debate
Which of the two to choose, slavery or death?
No; let us rise at once, gird on our swords,
And at the head of our remaining troops
Attack the foe, break through the thick array
Of his thronged legions, and charge home upon him.
Perhaps...
[June 15, 1815]
From “Childe Harold,” Canto III.
THERE was a sound of revelry by night,
And Belgium’s capital had gathered then
Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright
The lamps shone o’er fair women and brave men;
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes looked love to...
Eternal spirit of the chainless mind!
Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art,
For there thy habitation is the heart,—
The heart which love of thee alone can bind;
And when thy sons to fetters are consigned,—
To fetters, and the damp vault’s dayless gloom,—
Their country conquers with their martyrdom,
And Freedom’s fame finds wings on...
From “The Spectator”
THE SPACIOUS firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim;
The unwearied sun, from day to day,
Does his Creator’s power display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty hand.
Soon as the evening shades prevail,...
From “Childe Harold,” Canto III.
THERE sunk the greatest, nor the worst of men,
Whose spirit antithetically mixed
One moment of the mightiest, and again
On little objects with like firmness fixed,
Extreme in all things! hadst thou been betwixt,
Thy throne had still been thine, or never been;
For daring made thy rise as fall:...
Cotswold ma kék mosolygás,
és nincs már hó se rég,
a lányok új selyemben,
áprilist fest az ég,
mert minden áprilisban
a lányok szombaton
Stow-tól föl Rodborough-ig
takarosak nagyon.
Csodák a nők bokái,
ha már virág virít,
nem egy lány tudja mindezt
Campdentől Gloucesterig,
és nem egy lányt vesz észre,
...
Ó én boldog s ó ragyogó éj s ó velem együtt
kéjemet ünneplő, boldog a hű heverő!
Mennyi mesélnivalónk volt, ülve a lámpavilágnál
s mennyi csatánk, amikor már kialudt az a fény!
Mert félig kinyilott tunikája elég akadály volt,
küzdött egyre, holott melle kibomladozott.
Ő maga volt, aki már nehezült szememet nyitogatta
csókjaival s kigunyolt: "...
