Evenings Abroad. By the author of “Sketches of Corfu” [i.e. Mrs. Maclellan].

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82. oldal - 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.
240. oldal - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony.
218. oldal - She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean, Rising with her tiara of proud towers At airy distance, with majestic motion, A ruler of the waters and their powers...
286. oldal - THE Sea, the sea, the open sea, The blue, the fresh, the ever free : Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions round : It plays with the clouds, it mocks the skies, Or like a cradled creature lies.
30. oldal - Lake Leman woos me with its crystal face, The mirror where the stars and mountains view The stillness of their aspect in each trace Its clear depth yields of their far height and hue...
286. oldal - THE SEA The Sea! the Sea! the open Sea! The blue, the fresh, the ever free! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's wide regions 'round; It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies; Or like a cradled creature lies.
xii. oldal - Good-night to the Season! the dances, The fillings of hot little rooms, The glancings of rapturous glances, The fancyings of fancy costumes; The pleasures which fashion makes duties, The praisings of fiddles and flutes, The luxury of looking at beauties, The tedium of talking to mutes; The female diplomatists, planners Of matches for Laura and Jane, The ice of her Ladyship's manners, The ice of his Lordship's champagne.
218. oldal - 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 ! But unto us she hath a spell beyond Her name in story...
286. oldal - I never was on the dull tame shore, But I loved the great Sea more and more, And backwards flew to her billowy breast, Like a bird...
174. oldal - It is a good thing and a wise to be able, with a few books and a little needlework, to give any room, however strange and desolate, a look of home — to be able to pursue our usual employments anywhere at a moment's notice : and a blessing beyond wealth, beyond beauty, or even beyond talent, is that cheerful temperament, which can rejoice in the sunshine, yet be merry in the shade, which can delight in the birds singing in spring, yet solace itself with the heart's own music when winter is at hand.

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