There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society where none intrudes
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar.
* * * * *
I love not Man the less, but Nature more.
Stanza 179.
Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined and unknown.
Stanza 185.
And what is writ, is writ.
Would it were worthier!
_Memoranda from his Life_.
I awoke one morning and found myself famous.
* * * * *
_The Giaour_. Line 72.
Before decay's effacing fingers
Have swept the lines where beauty lingers.
Line 92.
So coldly sweet, so deadly fair,
We start, for soul is wanting there.
Line 106.
Shrine of the mighty! can it be
That this is all remains of thee?
Line 123.
For freedom's battle, once begun,
Bequeathed by bleeding sire to son,
Though baffled oft, is ever won.
Line 418.
And lovelier things have mercy shown
To every failing but their own;
And every won a tear can claim,
Except an erring sister's shame.
* * * * *
_Parasina_. St. 1.
It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
It is the hour when lovers' vows
Seem sweet in every whispered word.
_The Bride of Abydos_.
Canto i.
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