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Скачать или смотреть From Childe Harold Canto III by Lord Byron

  • Her Aeolian Harp
  • 2012-06-21
  • 5658
From Childe Harold Canto III by Lord Byron
LordByronChildeHarold'sPilgrimageRomanticismPoetry
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Описание к видео From Childe Harold Canto III by Lord Byron

Excerpt from Childe Harold Canto III, by Lord Byron

I wanted to share an all-too-rare event: a woman reading Byron's epic poetry. I also treasure a copy of the book from 1900, but I cannot recite the whole thing myself, much as I'd like to... ;)

Shared for educational purposes and a lifelong love of Romanticism.

Please pardon awkwardly formatted text. I've tried to change it.

XLII

But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell,
And there hath been thy bane; there is a fire
And motion of the soul which will not dwell
In its own narrow being, but aspire
Beyond the fitting medium of desire;
And, but once kindled, quenchless evermore,
Preys upon high adventure, nor can tire
Of aught but rest; a fever at the core,
Fatal to him who bears, to all who ever bore.

XLIII

This makes the madmen who have made men mad
By their contagion; Conquerors and Kings,
Founders of sects and systems, to whom add
Sophists, Bards, Statesmen, all unquiet things
Which stir too strongly the soul's secret springs,
And are themselves the fools to those they fool;
Envied, yet how unenviable! what stings
Are theirs! One breast laid open were a school
Which would unteach mankind the lust to shine or rule:

XLIV

Their breath is agitation, and their life
A storm whereon they ride, to sink at last,
And yet so nursed and bigotted to strife,
That should their days, surviving perils past,
Melt to calm twilight, they feel overcast
With sorrow and supineness, and so die;
Even as a flame unfed, which runs to waste
With its own flickering, or a sword laid by,
Which eats into itself, and rusts ingloriously.

XLV

He who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find
The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow.
He who surpasses or subdues mankind,
Must look down on the hate of those below.
Though high above the sun of glory glow,
And far beneath the earth and ocean spread,
Round him are icy rocks, and loudly blow
Contending tempests on his naked head,
And thus reward the toils which to those summits led.



Shared for educational purposes. No copyright infringement intended.

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