Through Italy with the PoetsMoffat, Yard & Company, 1908 - 429 sidor |
Från bokens innehåll
Resultat 1-5 av 43
Sida 22
... rest , And , spite of crime and passion , man be blest . But to our theme : The pilgrim comes to trace Verona's ruins , not bright Nature's face ; Be still , chase lightsome fancies , ere thou dare Approach yon pile , so grand yet ...
... rest , And , spite of crime and passion , man be blest . But to our theme : The pilgrim comes to trace Verona's ruins , not bright Nature's face ; Be still , chase lightsome fancies , ere thou dare Approach yon pile , so grand yet ...
Sida 23
... rest awhile Where the birds whistle hidden in the boughs , Or fly away when idlers take their place , Mated as well , concealed as willingly ; Idlers whose nest must not swing there , but rise Beneath a gleamy canopy of gold , Amid the ...
... rest awhile Where the birds whistle hidden in the boughs , Or fly away when idlers take their place , Mated as well , concealed as willingly ; Idlers whose nest must not swing there , but rise Beneath a gleamy canopy of gold , Amid the ...
Sida 43
... Rest near your little plots of wheaten glade ; To all that binds the soul in powerless trance , Lip - dewing song , and ringlet - tossing dance ; Where sparkling eyes and breaking smiles illume The sylvan cabin's lute - enlivened gloom ...
... Rest near your little plots of wheaten glade ; To all that binds the soul in powerless trance , Lip - dewing song , and ringlet - tossing dance ; Where sparkling eyes and breaking smiles illume The sylvan cabin's lute - enlivened gloom ...
Sida 49
... rest lay round and still ; The westering sun not dazzling now , though bright Shed o'er the mellow land a molten light . And , sauntering up a circling cove , I found upon the strand A shallop , and a girl who strove To drag it to dry ...
... rest lay round and still ; The westering sun not dazzling now , though bright Shed o'er the mellow land a molten light . And , sauntering up a circling cove , I found upon the strand A shallop , and a girl who strove To drag it to dry ...
Sida 50
She rested with the air of rest So seldom seen , of those Whose toil remitted gives a zest , Not languor , to repose . Her form was poised yet buoyant , firm though free And liberal of her bright black eyes was she . Her hue reflected ...
She rested with the air of rest So seldom seen , of those Whose toil remitted gives a zest , Not languor , to repose . Her form was poised yet buoyant , firm though free And liberal of her bright black eyes was she . Her hue reflected ...
Innehåll
1 | |
15 | |
21 | |
29 | |
41 | |
49 | |
63 | |
72 | |
78 | |
82 | |
92 | |
109 | |
110 | |
116 | |
122 | |
129 | |
135 | |
141 | |
147 | |
153 | |
159 | |
167 | |
173 | |
181 | |
187 | |
193 | |
202 | |
208 | |
215 | |
222 | |
228 | |
232 | |
291 | |
298 | |
305 | |
312 | |
318 | |
324 | |
331 | |
337 | |
343 | |
345 | |
352 | |
360 | |
366 | |
368 | |
375 | |
382 | |
388 | |
394 | |
401 | |
408 | |
415 | |
417 | |
424 | |
Andra upplagor - Visa alla
Vanliga ord och fraser
ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE ancient Apennine ARTHUR SYMONS beauty behold beneath blue breast breath bright brow cloud crown dark dead death deep divine dost doth dream earth eyes face fair fame feet flame Florence flowers gaze GIOSUÉ CARDUCCI gleam gloom glory glow gold grave green hath heart heaven HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW hills holy hour Italy JOHN ADDINGTON SYMONDS kiss lake land light look LORD BYRON marble mighty mist mountain murmur night o'er Olger OSCAR WILDE palace pass PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY purple rise Robert Haven Schauffler Rome rose round ruin shade shadows shore shrine SILAS WEIR MITCHELL silent sing skies sleep smiles soft song soul stand stars stone stood stream sweet thee thine things thou thought throng Tiber tomb tower town twilight unto Venice vines walls wandered waves wild wind
Populära avsnitt
Sida 171 - The roar of waters ! — from the headlong height Velino cleaves the wave-worn precipice; The fall of waters ! rapid as the light The flashing mass foams shaking the abyss ; The hell of waters ! where they howl and hiss, And boil in endless torture ; while the sweat Of their great agony, wrung out from this Their Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jet That gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set, LXX.
Sida 378 - I STOOD in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs; A palace and a prison on each hand : I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand...
Sida 235 - But meanwhile axe and lever Have manfully been plied; And now the bridge hangs tottering Above the boiling tide. " Come back, come back, Horatius !
Sida 227 - Or view the Lord of the unerring bow, The God of life, and poesy, and light — The Sun in human limbs array'd, and brow All radiant from his triumph in the fight, The shaft hath just been shot — the arrow bright With an immortal's vengeance ; in his eye And nostril beautiful disdain, and might And majesty, flash their full lightnings by, Developing in that one glance the Deity.
Sida 226 - Or, turning to the Vatican, go see Laocoon's torture dignifying pain — A father's love and mortal's agony With an immortal's patience blending : — Vain The struggle ; vain, against the coiling strain And gripe, and deepening of the dragon's grasp, The old man's clench ; the long envenomed chain Rivets the living links, — the enormous asp Enforces pang on pang, and stifles gasp on gasp.
Sida 289 - I see the deep's untrampled floor With green and purple sea-weeds strown ; I see the waves upon the shore, Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown...
Sida 239 - They gave him of the corn-land, That was of public right, As much as two strong oxen Could plough from morn till night ; And they made a molten image, And set it up on high, And there it stands unto this day To witness if I lie.
Sida 397 - What? Those lesser thirds so plaintive, sixths diminished, sigh on sigh, Told them something? Those suspensions, those solutions — "Must we die?" Those commiserating sevenths — "Life might last! we can but try!" "Were you happy?"— "Yes."— "And are you still as happy?"— "Yes.
Sida 419 - I RODE one evening with Count Maddalo Upon the bank of land which breaks the flow Of Adria towards Venice : a bare strand Of hillocks, heaped from ever-shifting sand, Matted with thistles and amphibious weeds, Such as from earth's embrace the salt ooze breeds, Is this ; an uninhabited sea-side, Which the lone fisher, when his nets are dried, Abandons ; and no other object breaks The waste, but one dwarf tree and some few stakes Broken and unrepaired, and the tide makes A narrow space of level sand...
Sida 201 - Arches on arches ! as it were that Rome. Collecting the chief trophies of her line, Would build up all her triumphs in one dome, Her Coliseum stands ; the moonbeams shine As 'twere its natural torches, for divine Should be the light which streams here to illume This long-explored but still exhaustless mine Of contemplation...