Italy, a PoemT. Cadell, Strand, 1830 - 284 oldal |
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Gyakori szavak és kifejezések
AMALFI ancient beauty BOLOGNA breathed called church CIMABUE City cliff clouds comes cried dead delight Doge door Doria dream drew ELEONORA DI TOLEDO entered ere long eyes father fear fell fled Florence foot Franco Sacchetti gate gazed Genoa glimmering gold golden vales Gondolier gone Goodall grove hadst hand heard heart Heaven holy hour Italy La Scala length light lived look lost MARCOLINI Naples Nicolo Pisani night noblest numbered o'er once Padua Pæstum Paganino Doria palaces passed Petrarch pleasure ROME rose round sacred sail says seen sigh silent Singing sitting sleep smile song soon Spanish Poetry splendour stir stood story Stothard stranger sung temple thee thine things thou art thou hast thought thro Titian tomb tower turned Twas twelve tables VENICE verse voice walls wander wave whence wild young youth
Népszerű szakaszok
95. oldal - All else had perished—save a nuptial ring, And a small seal, her mother's legacy, Engraven with a name, the name of both, ' GINEVRA.' There then had she found a grave! Within that chest had she concealed herself, Fluttering with joy, the happiest of the happy; When a spring-lock, that lay in ambush there, Fastened her down for ever! . BOLOGNA.
207. oldal - THEY stand between the mountains and the sea; Awful memorials, but of whom we know not! The seaman, passing, gazes from the deck. The buflalo-driver, in his shaggy cloak, Points to the work of magic and moves on. Time was they stood along the crowded street, Temples of Gods! and on their ample steps What
94. oldal - That by the way—-it may be true or false— But don't forget the picture; and thou wilt not, When thou hast heard the tale they told me there. She was an only child; from infancy The joy, the pride of an indulgent Sire. Her Mother dying of the gift she gave, That precious gift, what else remained to him ? The young
94. oldal - hand, with her heart in it, to FRANCESCO. Great was the joy; but at the Bridal feast, When all sat down, the Bride was wanting there. Nor was she to be found! Her Father cried,
101. oldal - her festal for her funeral song; That they so soon should hear the minute-gun, As morning gleamed on what remained of thee, Roll o'er the sea, the mountains, numbering Thy years of joy and sorrow. Thou art gone; And he who would assail thee in thy grave, Oh, let him pause! For who among us all, Tried
102. oldal - Tis a gem Of purest ray; and what a light broke forth, When it emerged from darkness! Search within, Without; all is enchantment! 'Tis the Past Contending with the Present; and in turn Each has the mastery. ^^^.^ In this chapel wrought One of the Few.
30. oldal - winds A path of pleasure. Like a silver zone Flung about carelessly, it shines afar, Catching the eye in many a broken link, In many a turn and traverse as it glides; And oft above and oft below appears, Seen o'er the wall by him who journies up, As
264. oldal - There, unseen, Milton went to Italy in 1638. " There it was," says he, " that I found and visited the famous Galileo grown old, a prisoner to the Inquisition." " Old and blind," he might have said. Galileo, by his own account, became blind in December, 1637. Milton, as we learn from the date of Sir Henry Wotton's letter to him, had 'not left England on the 18th of April
95. oldal - GINEVRA.' There then had she found a grave! Within that chest had she concealed herself, Fluttering with joy, the happiest of the happy; When a spring-lock, that lay in ambush there, Fastened her down for ever!
140. oldal - his handy-work not ours, An idle column, a half-buried arch, A wall of some great temple. It was once, And long, the centre of their Universe, The Forum—whence a mandate, eagle-winged, Went to the ends of the earth. Let us descend Slowly. At every step much may be lost. The very dust we tread, stirs as with life;