Italian Sketch Book

Framsida
Light, 1837 - 272 sidor

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Sida 33 - There is a stern round tower of other days, Firm as a fortress, with its fence of stone, Such as an army's baffled strength delays, Standing with half its battlements alone, And with two thousand years of ivy grown, The garland of eternity, where wave The green leaves over all by time o'erthrown ; — What was this tower of strength ? within its cave What treasure lay so lock'd, so hid ? — A woman's grave.
Sida 211 - Hence in a season of calm weather Though inland far we be, Our souls have sight of that immortal sea Which brought us hither; Can in a moment travel thither, And see the children sport upon the shore, And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
Sida iii - Italia! oh Italia! thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty, which became A funeral dower of present woes and past, On thy sweet brow is sorrow plough'd by shame, And annals graved in characters of flame. Oh, God! that thou wert in thy nakedness Less lovely or more powerful, and couldst claim Thy right, and awe the robbers back, who press To shed thy blood, and drink the tears of thy distress...
Sida 239 - And solemn smokes, like altars of the world. Thrice beautiful! — to that delightful spot Carry our married hearts, and be all pain forgot. There Art, too, shows, when Nature's beauty palls, Her sculptured marbles, and her pictured walls ; And there are forms in which they both conspire To whisper themes that know not how to tire ; The speaking ruins in that gentle clime Have but been hallow'd by the hand of Time, And each can mutely prompt some thought of flame: The meanest stone is not without...
Sida 42 - Have met with much injustice in this world; No difference has been made by God or man, Or any power moulding my wretched lot, 'Twixt good or evil, as regarded me. I am cut off from the only world I know, From light, and life, and love, in youth's sweet prime. You do well telling me to trust in God, I hope I do trust in him. In whom else Can any trust ? And yet my heart is cold.
Sida 99 - Slave, do thine office ! Strike as I struck the foe ! Strike as I would Have struck those tyrants ! Strike deep as my curse ! Strike — and but once ! [ The DOGE throws himself upon his knees, and as the Executioner raises his sword the scene closes.
Sida 105 - Ye ! who have traced the Pilgrim to the scene Which is his last, if in your memories dwell A thought which once was his, if on ye swell A single recollection, not in vain He wore his sandal-shoon, and scallop-shell ; Farewell! with him alone may rest the pain, If such there were — with you, the moral of his strain.
Sida 141 - I loved her from my boyhood; she to me Was as a fairy city of the heart, Rising like water-columns from the sea, Of joy the sojourn, and of wealth the mart...
Sida 103 - In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more, And silent rows the songless gondolier; Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, And music meets not always now the ear: Those days are gone — but Beauty still is here. States fall, arts fade — but Nature doth not die, Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!
Sida 229 - ESCAP'D the castle of the sire of sin, Ah! where shall I so sweet a dwelling find? For all around, without, and all within, Nothing save what delightful was and kind, Of goodness savouring and a tender mind, E'er rose to view.

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