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" I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mouth, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables which breathe of the sweet South, And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in, That not a single accent... "
The Edinburgh magazine, and literary miscellany, a new series of The Scots ... - 346. oldal
1818
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

The Northern star, or, Yorkshire magazine, 3. kötet

Arthur Jewitt - 1818 - 336 oldal
...seen no more below." When he comes to Italy, the garden of the Muses, he writes in his own style ! " I love the language 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,...

The Gentleman's Magazine, 88. kötet,2. rész;124. kötet

1818 - 724 oldal
...sorrow, But with all Heaven t' himself: that day will break as Beauteous as cloudless, nor be forc'd " to borrow That sort of farthing candlelight which...simmers. I love the language, that soft, bastard Latin, [mouth, Which melts like kisses from a female And sounds as if it should be writ on satin [sweet South,...

The Edinburgh Magazine and Literary Miscellany, 81. kötet

1818 - 638 oldal
...as A drunken man's dead eye in maudhn sorrow, But with all Heaven l' himself; that day will break as Beauteous as cloudless, nor be forced to borrow That...glimmers Where reeking London's smoky cauldron simmers. й I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female month, And sounds...

Robinson's Magazine: A Weekly Repository of Original Papers and ..., 1. kötet

1818 - 428 oldal
...That sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers \Vlierereeking London's smoky cauldron simmers. XLI. I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which...melts like kisses from a female mouth, And sounds a* if it should be writ on satin. With syllables which breathe of the sweet South, And gentle liquids...

Spirit of the English Magazines, 3. kötet

1818 - 502 oldal
...sorrow, Bui with all Heaven t'himself ; that day will break as Beauteous as cloudless, nor be forc'd to borrow That sort of farthing candlelight which...glimmers Where reeking London's smoky cauldron simmers. XLI. I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, W h.ch melts li ke kisses frnm a female month, ArM...

Beppo: A Venetian Story

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1818 - 70 oldal
...sorrow, But with all Heaven t' himself; that day will break as Beauteous as cloudless, nor be forc'd to borrow That sort of farthing candlelight 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, And...

The works of ... lord Byron, 7-8. kötet

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1819 - 466 oldal
...sorrow. But with all IIca\cii t'himself ; that day will break as Beauteous as cloudless, nor be farced to borrow That sort of farthing candlelight 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, And...

Hermes; oder kritisches Jahrbuch der Literatur, 1-2. kötet

1819 - 884 oldal
...'' But with all Heaven t'himself; that day will break ai," ' , Beauteous as cloudless, nor be forc'd to borrow That sort of farthing candlelight, which...glimmers, Where reeking London's smoky cauldron simmers, . ','r\ I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, • "Which melts like kisses from a female mouth,...

The works of lord Byron, 3. kötet

George Gordon N. Byron (6th baron.) - 1820 - 260 oldal
...A drunken man's dead eye in maudlin sorrow, But with all Heaven t' himself; that day will break as Beauteous as cloudless, nor be forced to borrow That sort of farthing candle light which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky caldron simmers. XLIV. I love the language,...

The Works of Lord Byron: Lara. Siege of Corinth. Parisina. The prisoner of ...

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1821 - 294 oldal
...A drunken man's dead eye in maudlin sorrow, But with all Heaven t' himself; that day will break as Beauteous as cloudless, nor be forced to borrow That...sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers Where rqeking London's smoky caldron simmers. XLIV. I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melts...




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