Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/354

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li. " Appear'dst thou not to Paris in this guise?"—
lii. "Glowing, and circumfused in speechless love,"—
liv.-lx. "In Santa Croce's holy precincts lie,"—"What is her Pyramid of precious stones?"—
lxxx.-lxxxii. "The Goth, the Christian—Time—War—Flood, and Fire,"—"Alas! the lofty city! and alas!"—
lxxxv. "Sylla was first of victors; but our own,"—
lxxxvi. "The third of the same Moon whose former course,"—
xciii.-xcvi. "What from this barren being do we reap?"—"Can tyrants but by tyrants conquered be,"—
cix. "Admire—exult—despise—laugh—weep,—for here,"—
cxii.-cxiv. "Where is the rock of Triumph, the high place,"—"Then turn we to her latest Tribune's name,"—
cxxiii. "Who loves, raves—'tis youth's frenzy—but the cure,"—
cxxv.-cxxvii. "Few—none—find what they love or could have loved,"—"Yet let us ponder boldly—'tis a base,"—
cxxxv.-cxxxvii. "That curse shall be Forgiveness,—Have I not,"—"But I have lived, and have not lived in vain,"—
clii. "Turn to the Mole which Hadrian reared on high,"—
clxvii.-clxxii. "Hark! forth from the abyss a voice proceeds,"—(On the death of the Princess Charlotte, November 6, 1817.)—"These might have been her destiny—but no,"—
clxxiii. "Lo, Nemi! navelled in the woody hills,"—
clxxiv. "And near, Albano's scarce divided waves,"—
clxxvii. "Oh! that the Desert were my dwelling-place,"—(1818.)
clxxviii. "There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,"—(1818.)
clxxxi. "The armaments which thunderstrike the walls,"—