
The Works of George Byron (Volume 10); With His Letters and Journals, and His Life
Paperback
Currently unavailable to order
ISBN10: 1154332799
ISBN13: 9781154332797
Publisher: General Books
Pages: 172
Weight: 0.57
Height: 0.39 Width: 9.01 Depth: 5.98
Language: English
ISBN13: 9781154332797
Publisher: General Books
Pages: 172
Weight: 0.57
Height: 0.39 Width: 9.01 Depth: 5.98
Language: English
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1835 Excerpt: ... For narrow the way that led to the spot Where still the Christians yielded not; And the foremost, if fearful, may vainly try Through the massy column to turn and fly; They perforce must do or die. They die; but ere their eyes could close, Avengers o'er their bodies rose; Fresh and furious, fast they fill The ranks unthinn'd, though slaughter'd still; And faint the weary Christians wax Before the still renew'd attacks: And now the Othmans gain the gate; Still resists its iron weight, And still, all deadly aim'd and hot, From every crevice comes the shot; From every shatter'd window pour The volleys of the sulphurous shower: But the portal wavering grows and weak--The iron yields, the hinges creak--It bends--jt falls--and all is o'er; Lost Corinth may resist no more! XXX. Darkly, sternly, and all alone, t Minotti stood o'er the altar stone, Madonna's face upon him shone, Painted in heavenly hues above, With eyes of light and looks of love; And placed upon that holy shrine To fix our thoughts on things divine, When pictured there, we kneeling see Her, and the boy-God on her knee, Smiling sweetly on each prayer To heaven, as if to waft it there, Still she smiled; even now she smiles, Though slaughter streams along her aisles: Minotti lifted his aged eye, And made the sign of a cross with a sigh, Then seized a torch which blazed thereby; And still he stood, while, with steel and flame, Inward and onward the Mussulman came. XXXI. The vaults beneath the mosaic stone Contain'd the dead of ages gone; Their names were on the graven floor, But now illegible with gore; The carved crests, and curious hues The varied marble's veins diffuse, Were smear'd, and slippery--stain'd, and strovvn With broken swords, and helms o'erthrown: There were dead above, and the dead belo...