With Byron in Italy: A Selection of the Poems and Letters of Lord Byron Relating to His Life in ItalyT. F. Unwin, 1907 - Всего страниц: 327 |
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Стр. xvi
... seems almost like an Italian writing in English . When he arrived in Italy ( November , 1816 ) he was twenty - eight years old , and no man at twenty - eight had ever been more in the public eye . He had " awaked and found himself ...
... seems almost like an Italian writing in English . When he arrived in Italy ( November , 1816 ) he was twenty - eight years old , and no man at twenty - eight had ever been more in the public eye . He had " awaked and found himself ...
Стр. 6
... all English society . His long hesitation and pain preceding seem almost laughable now , but they serve to mark the great change of mental attitude in the last hundred years . Murray's list of payments to the [ 6 ] WITH BYRON IN ITALY.
... all English society . His long hesitation and pain preceding seem almost laughable now , but they serve to mark the great change of mental attitude in the last hundred years . Murray's list of payments to the [ 6 ] WITH BYRON IN ITALY.
Стр. 9
... seems to have been of Vicenza by the tradition ; but I was a good deal surprised to find so firm a faith in Bandello's novel , which seems really to have been founded on a fact . Venice pleases me as much as I expected , and I expected ...
... seems to have been of Vicenza by the tradition ; but I was a good deal surprised to find so firm a faith in Bandello's novel , which seems really to have been founded on a fact . Venice pleases me as much as I expected , and I expected ...
Стр. 14
... seem odd enough to say , I do not think it my vocation . But you will see that I shall do something or other the times and fortune per- mitting that , " like the cosmogony , or creation of the world , will puzzle the philosophers of all ...
... seem odd enough to say , I do not think it my vocation . But you will see that I shall do something or other the times and fortune per- mitting that , " like the cosmogony , or creation of the world , will puzzle the philosophers of all ...
Стр. 32
... seem to me overloaded . What is necessary but a bust and name ? and perhaps a date ? —the last for the unchronological , of whom I am one . But all your alle- gory and eulogy is infernal , and worse than the long wigs of English ...
... seem to me overloaded . What is necessary but a bust and name ? and perhaps a date ? —the last for the unchronological , of whom I am one . But all your alle- gory and eulogy is infernal , and worse than the long wigs of English ...
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With Byron in Italy: A Selection of the Poems and Letters of Lord Byron ... Anna Benneson McMahan,Baron George Gordon Byron Byron Недоступно для просмотра - 2016 |
With Byron in Italy Anna Benneson Mcmahan,George Gordon Byron,A C McClurg and Co Недоступно для просмотра - 2023 |
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
Abbot Adah Arqua bard beauty blood breast breath brow bust Byron Cain Canova Canto Childe Harold clime Column of Phocas Dante dead dear death decay deep didst Doge Don Juan dost doth dust earth English eternal eyes fame father feel Ferrara Florence forget Francesca of Rimini gallery genius gentle Giorgione glory grave Guiccioli hath heart heaven Hobhouse hour immortal Italian Italy JOHN MURRAY VENICE lady Leigh Hunt letter live look Lord Lucifer Manfred marble mind mortal mountains ne'er never night o'er ocean once palace passions Petrarch Pisa poem poet poetry published Ravenna repose Romagna Roman Rome round Samian wine scene seen Shelley shine shore soul spirits stanza stars sweet Tasso thee thine things THOMAS MOORE thou art thought Titian tomb tower tree tyrants Venetian walls waters waves woes words
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Стр. 71 - Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, ye! Whose agonies are evils of a day — A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. LXXIX. The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe; An empty urn within...
Стр. 104 - Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, Calm or convulsed — in breeze or gale or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime, Dark-heaving, boundless, endless and sublime — The image of eternity — the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Стр. 79 - 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.
Стр. 104 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, •To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean— roll!
Стр. 60 - Thou art the garden of the world, the home Of all Art yields, and Nature can decree; Even in thy desert, what is like to thee? Thy very weeds are beautiful, thy waste More rich than other climes' fertility; Thy wreck a glory, and thy ruin graced With an immaculate charm which cannot be defaced.
Стр. 38 - Midst the chief relics of almighty Rome; The trees which grew along the broken arches Waved dark in the blue midnight, and the stars Shone through the rents of ruin; from afar The watch-dog bayed beyond the Tiber ; and More near from out the Caesars...
Стр. 279 - Must we but blush? — Our fathers bled. Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three To make a new Thermopylae! What, silent still ? and silent all ? Ah, no; — the voices of the dead Sound like a distant torrent's fall, And answer, " Let one living head, But one, arise — we come, we come!
Стр. 104 - Ye Elements, in whose ennobling stir I feel myself exalted, can ye not Accord me such a being ? Do I err In deeming such inhabit many a spot, Though with them to converse can rarely be our lot...
Стр. 60 - 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, 18 The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy...
Стр. 96 - But thou, of temples old, or altars new, Standest alone, with nothing like to thee — Worthiest of God, the holy and the true. Since Zion's desolation, when that He Forsook his former city, what could be, Of earthly structures, in his honour piled, Of a sublimer aspect? Majesty, Power, Glory, Strength, and Beauty all are aisled In this eternal ark of worship undefiled.