...That sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky caldron simmers. XIJV. 1 love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which...Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural, I like the women too (forgive my fo From the rich peasant-cheek of rudJy bronze, And large black eyes...

...Italian. The sweet melody of this language, which Byron happily, but rather ludicrously, describes as -that soft bastard Latin Which melts like kisses from a female mouth, seems to have been intended by Nature to supply the deficiency in thought and in strength of mind,...

...glimmers Where reeking London's smoky canldron simmers. XLIV. I love the language, that soft hastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mouth,...Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural, Which we 're obliged to hiss, and spit, and sputter all. XLV. I like the women too (forgive my folly),...

...forced to borrow That sort of farthing-candlelight which glimmers Where reeking London's su/nk\ cauldron I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which...liquids gliding all so pat in. That not a single accent seem* uncouth, Like our harsh northern whistling, Krnnting guttural, Which we're obliged to hiss, and...

...architecture only, as the noble author of Childe Harold does of their language, when he calls it " that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from...With syllables which breathe of the sweet south." So of their architecture I adapt another quotation from the same illustrious bard, and you may see...

...\Vlnrh iiiflis like kisses from a female mould, And -omuls as if it should he writ on satin, Willi syllables which breathe of the sweet south, And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in, That tiot a single accent seems uncouth, like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural, Which we...

...love the language, that soft bastard F,aliu, Which melts like kisses from a female mouib, And sound* as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables which...the sweet south, And gentle liquids gliding all so pal in, That not a single accent seems uncouth, Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural,...

...language, when he calls it " that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female month, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables which breathe of the sweet south." So of their architecture I adapt another quotation from the same illustrious bard, and you may see...

...sort of farthing-candle light, which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky cauldron simmers. XLIV. I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mouth, Aud sounds as if it should be writ on satin, Wilb syllables which breathe of the sweet soulh, And genlle...

...borrow That sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky caldron simmers. 1 love the language, that soft bastard. Latin, Which...from a female mouth, And sounds as if it should be wiit on satin, With syllables which breathe of the sweet South, And gentle liquids gliding all so pat...