Through Italy with the PoetsMoffat, Yard & Company, 1908 - Всего страниц: 429 |
Содержание
| 1 | |
| 32 | |
| 39 | |
| 46 | |
| 52 | |
| 60 | |
| 66 | |
| 72 | |
| 78 | |
| 84 | |
| 92 | |
| 107 | |
| 110 | |
| 116 | |
| 122 | |
| 129 | |
| 135 | |
| 141 | |
| 147 | |
| 153 | |
| 159 | |
| 167 | |
| 173 | |
| 181 | |
| 187 | |
| 193 | |
| 202 | |
| 208 | |
| 215 | |
| 222 | |
| 228 | |
| 232 | |
| 296 | |
| 303 | |
| 312 | |
| 318 | |
| 324 | |
| 331 | |
| 337 | |
| 343 | |
| 345 | |
| 352 | |
| 360 | |
| 366 | |
| 368 | |
| 375 | |
| 382 | |
| 388 | |
| 394 | |
| 401 | |
| 408 | |
| 415 | |
| 417 | |
| 424 | |
Другие издания - Просмотреть все
Часто встречающиеся слова и выражения
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
Популярные отрывки
Стр. 238 - No sound of joy or sorrow Was heard from either bank ; But friends and foes in dumb surprise, With parted lips and straining eyes, Stood gazing where he sank. And when above the surges They saw his crest appear, All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, And even the ranks of Tuscany Could scarce forbear to cheer.
Стр. 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...
Стр. 33 - I go in the rain, and, more than needs, A rope cuts both my wrists behind ; And I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds, For they fling, whoever has a mind, Stones at me for my year's misdeeds. Thus I entered, and thus I go ! In triumphs, people have dropped down dead. " Paid by the world, what dost thou owe Me ? " — God might question ; now instead, 'Tis God shall repay : I am safer so.
Стр. 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.
Стр. 419 - I love all waste And solitary places ; where we taste The pleasure of believing what we see Is boundless, as we wish our souls to be...
Стр. 290 - Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure. Others I see whom these surround — Smiling they live, and call life pleasure ; — To me that cup has been dealt in another measure.
Стр. 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...
Стр. 379 - 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...
Стр. 239 - quoth false Sextus ; " Will not the villain drown ? But for this stay, ere close of day We should have sacked the town ! " " Heaven help him ! " quoth Lars Porsena, "And bring him safe to shore; For such a gallant feat of arms Was never seen before.
Стр. 128 - twere a little sky Gulfed in a world below ; A firmament of purple light Which in the dark earth lay, More boundless than the depth of night, And purer than the day — In which the lovely forests grew As in the upper air, More perfect both in shape and hue Than any spreading there.