With Byron in Italy: Being a Selection of the Poems and Letter of Lord Byron which Have to Do with His Life in Italy from 1816 to 1823A. C. McClurg & Company, 1906 - Всего страниц: 327 |
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Стр. 33
... hope and believe . I have been some days in Rome the Wonderful . I am seeing sights , and have done nothing else , except the new third act for you . I have this morning seen a live pope and a dead cardinal ; Pius VII has been burying ...
... hope and believe . I have been some days in Rome the Wonderful . I am seeing sights , and have done nothing else , except the new third act for you . I have this morning seen a live pope and a dead cardinal ; Pius VII has been burying ...
Стр. 51
... hope the best . Ever yours truly , B. P. S. - Torwaltzen has done a bust of me at Rome for Mr. Hobhouse , which is reckoned very good.2 He is their best after Canova , and by some preferred to him . 1 The " deep - dyed " Brenta flows ...
... hope the best . Ever yours truly , B. P. S. - Torwaltzen has done a bust of me at Rome for Mr. Hobhouse , which is reckoned very good.2 He is their best after Canova , and by some preferred to him . 1 The " deep - dyed " Brenta flows ...
Стр. 52
... hope you won't be affronted at my looking on us as " birds of a feather " ; though , on whatever sub- ject you had written , I should have been very happy in your success . Do you remember that damned supper at Rancliffe's that ought to ...
... hope you won't be affronted at my looking on us as " birds of a feather " ; though , on whatever sub- ject you had written , I should have been very happy in your success . Do you remember that damned supper at Rancliffe's that ought to ...
Стр. 74
... Hope upon a death - bed , and , unworn Its steady dyes while all around is torn By the distracted waters , bears serene Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn ; Resembling , ' mid the torture of the scene , Love watching ...
... Hope upon a death - bed , and , unworn Its steady dyes while all around is torn By the distracted waters , bears serene Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn ; Resembling , ' mid the torture of the scene , Love watching ...
Стр. 87
... hope , once more To battle with the ocean and the shocks Of the loud breakers , and the ceaseless roar Which rushes on the solitary shore Where all lies founder'd that was ever dear . But could I gather from the wave - worn store Enough ...
... hope , once more To battle with the ocean and the shocks Of the loud breakers , and the ceaseless roar Which rushes on the solitary shore Where all lies founder'd that was ever dear . But could I gather from the wave - worn store Enough ...
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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 |
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Abbot Adah Arqua Bard beauty blood breast breath brow Byron Cain Canto Capitoline Hill Childe Harold clime Column of Phocas Dante dead dear death deep didst Doge dome Don Juan dost doth dust earth English eternal eyes fame feel Florence forget Francesca of Rimini Gallery genius gentle Giorgione glory grave Guiccioli hath heart heaven Hobhouse hour hues immortal Italian Italy JOHN MURRAY JOHN MURRAY VENICE lady Leigh Hunt letter live look Lord Lucifer Manfred marble Michel Angelo mind monument mortal mountains nations ne'er never night o'er ocean once palace passions Pisa poem poet poetry publish Ravenna repose Romagna Roman Rome round ruin Samian wine scene seen Shelley shine shore soul spirit stanza stars sweet Tasso thee thine things THOMAS MOORE thou art thought tomb tyrants Venetian walls waters waves woes words
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Стр. 81 - 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. 92 - I see before me the Gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand ; his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low : And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him ; he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
Стр. 60 - 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...
Стр. 285 - 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...
Стр. 284 - The Scian and the Teian muse, The hero's harp, the lover's lute, Have found the fame your shores refuse : Their place of birth alone is mute To sounds which echo further west Than your sires'
Стр. 100 - 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.
Стр. 286 - You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet, Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? Of two such lessons, why forget The nobler and the manlier one?
Стр. 95 - But here, where Murder breathed her bloody steam; And here, where buzzing nations choked the ways, And...
Стр. 83 - Yet, Freedom ! yet thy banner, torn, but flying, Streams like the thunder-storm against the wind; Thy trumpet voice, though broken now and dying, The loudest still the tempest leaves behind; Thy tree hath lost its blossoms, and the rind, Chopp'd by the axe, looks rough and little worth, But the sap lasts, — and still the seed we find Sown deep, even in the bosom of the North; So shall a better spring less bitter fruit bring forth.
Стр. 100 - Enter : its grandeur overwhelms thee not ; And why? It is not lessen'd ; but thy mind, Expanded by the genius of the spot, Has grown colossal, and can only find A fit abode wherein appear enshrined Thy hopes of immortality ; and thou Shalt one day, if found worthy, so defined, See thy God face to face, as thou dost now His Holy of Holies, nor be blasted by his brow.