Lord Byron and Some of His Contemporaries: With Recollections of the Author's Life, and of His Visit to Italy, 1. kötetH. Colburn, 1828 - 494 oldal |
Részletek a könyvből
1 - 5 találat összesen 32 találatból.
61. oldal
... was so annoyed one day at Ge- noa at not succeeding in bantering me out of my epistolary proprieties , that he addressed me a letter beginning , " Dear Lord Hunt . " This sally made me laugh heartily . I told him so LORD BYRON . 61.
... was so annoyed one day at Ge- noa at not succeeding in bantering me out of my epistolary proprieties , that he addressed me a letter beginning , " Dear Lord Hunt . " This sally made me laugh heartily . I told him so LORD BYRON . 61.
112. oldal
With Recollections of the Author's Life, and of His Visit to Italy Leigh Hunt. Yet he hardly seemed to relish Peter ... Dear Dr. Johnson , - ( It is Mrs. Thrale who speaks ) - " Dear Dr. Johnson was in size an ox , And of his uncle ...
With Recollections of the Author's Life, and of His Visit to Italy Leigh Hunt. Yet he hardly seemed to relish Peter ... Dear Dr. Johnson , - ( It is Mrs. Thrale who speaks ) - " Dear Dr. Johnson was in size an ox , And of his uncle ...
113. oldal
With Recollections of the Author's Life, and of His Visit to Italy Leigh Hunt. We said , ( which charm'd the Doctor much ... Dear Doctor Johnson left off drinks fermented , With quarts of chocolate and cream contented ; Yet often down his ...
With Recollections of the Author's Life, and of His Visit to Italy Leigh Hunt. We said , ( which charm'd the Doctor much ... Dear Doctor Johnson left off drinks fermented , With quarts of chocolate and cream contented ; Yet often down his ...
192. oldal
With Recollections of the Author's Life, and of His Visit to Italy Leigh Hunt. the other . It is best , surely , that ... dear wife ! my dear child ! " Fletcher , in his narrative , says no- thing of the epithet bestowed on the former ...
With Recollections of the Author's Life, and of His Visit to Italy Leigh Hunt. the other . It is best , surely , that ... dear wife ! my dear child ! " Fletcher , in his narrative , says no- thing of the epithet bestowed on the former ...
208. oldal
... Hunt , " quoth our patron of the " Life and Times , " " ought to have been aware , how jealous an author is of the darling offspring of his muse , and he ought to have spared the feelings , or , if he pleases , the weaknesses of his ...
... Hunt , " quoth our patron of the " Life and Times , " " ought to have been aware , how jealous an author is of the darling offspring of his muse , and he ought to have spared the feelings , or , if he pleases , the weaknesses of his ...
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Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
acquaintance admired afterwards Albaro appeared Bard Baubo Bay of Spezia beauty believe body called Captain compliment confess connexion contradiction critics DEAR HUNT delight Don Juan doubt England English eyes fancy Faust feel genius Genoa gentleman give Goethe good-humoured handsome Hazlitt heart honour hope Italian Italy Keats kind knew lady Lady Byron laugh least Leghorn Leigh Hunt Lerici less letters Liberal lived look Lord Byron Lord Holland Lordship Madame Guiccioli manner matter mean Medwin Meph mistake Moore moral nature never noble occasion opinion Parisina passage passion perhaps person Pisa pleasure poem poet poetical poetry pretended reader reason respect Rimini seemed sense Shelley Shelley's sincerity sort speak spirit spleen talk tell thing thou thought tion told took truth Via Reggio wish word write written young
Népszerű szakaszok
429. oldal - While he from forth the closet brought a heap Of candied apple, quince, and plum, and gourd ; With jellies soother than the creamy curd, And lucent syrups, tinct with cinnamon ; Manna and dates, in argosy transferr'd From Fez ; and spiced dainties, every one, From silken Samarcand to cedar'd Lebanon.
434. oldal - Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare...
437. oldal - Darkling I listen; and for many a time I have been half in love with easeful Death, Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme, To take into the air my quiet breath; Now more than ever seems it rich to die, To cease upon the midnight with no pain, While thou art pouring forth -thy soul abroad In such an ecstasy! • Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain — To thy high requiem become a sod.
435. oldal - Ode to a Nightingale MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thy happiness, — That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.
436. oldal - O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim...
436. oldal - Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays...
437. oldal - As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music: — Do I wake or sleep?
411. oldal - Homer ruled as his demesne : Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: — Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
340. oldal - The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.
437. oldal - Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...