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Könyvek 
" 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... "
Hermes; oder kritisches Jahrbuch der Literatur - xxvi. oldal
1819
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

De dichtwerken van Bilderdijk, 13. kötet

Willem Bilderdijk - 1859 - 478 oldal
...snoodheen snoodste! 1822. HET ITALIAANSCH. * "I love the langnage, that soft bastard Latin, "Which milts like kisses from a female mouth, "And sounds as if...uncouth, "Like our harsh Northern whistling, grunting guttura], "Which we're oblig'd to hiss, and spit, and sputter all." U minne ik teer, ö taal van lust...

Southern Literary Messenger, 28. kötet

1859 - 594 oldal
...though it should be writ on eatin 1859.1 Lettert of a Spintter. With syllables which breathe of tin; sweet South, And gentle liquids gliding all so pat...Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural Which we're obliged to hiss and spit and sputter all." Another peculiarity of utterance which obtains...

Histoire de la littérature anglaise, 3. kötet

Hippolyte Taine - 1863 - 698 oldal
...1 I love the language, that soft hastard latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mnuth, Which sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables...south, And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in, That uot a single accent seems uncouth, Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural, Which we're...

Histoire de la littérature anglaise, 3. kötet

Hippolyte Taine - 1863 - 696 oldal
...simmers. 1 Ilove the language, that soft hastard latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mouth, Which sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables...breathe of the sweet south , And gentle liquids gliding ail so pat in, That not a single accent seems uncouth, Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting...

Histoire de la littérature anglaise, 3. kötet

Hippolyte Taine - 1863 - 712 oldal
...1 1 love the language, that soft hastanl latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mouth, Which sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables which breathe of the sweet south, And genile liquids gliding ail so pat in, That not a single accent seems uncouth, Like our harsh northern...

Le dialecte et les chants populaires de la Sardaigne

Auguste Boullier - 1864 - 388 oldal
...travail écrit sur le dialecte sarde. (2) Expressions de lord Byron en parlant de l'italien : Y love thé language, that soft bastard latin Which melts like...be writ on satin, With syllables which breathe of thé sweet south And gentle liquida gliding ail so pat in That not a single accent seems uncouth. Comme...

L'ile de Sardaigne: dialecte et chants populaires

Auguste Boullier - 1865 - 318 oldal
...l'italien : Y love the language, that soft bastard latin Winch melts like kisses from a female mouih, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With...breathe of the sweet south And gentle liquids gliding ail so pat in That not a single accent seems uncouth. cision qui ne s'acquiert que par une longue culture....

Poems

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1866 - 802 oldal
...That sork of farthing candlelight which glimmern Where reeking London's smoky cauldron simmers. XLIV. I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, - Which...Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural, Which we're obliged to hiss, and spit, and sputter all XtV. I like the women too (forgive my folly),...

Histoire de la littérature anglaise, 4. kötet

Taine - 1866 - 500 oldal
...ciel2.» That sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky caldron simmers. II love the language, that soft bastard latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mouth, Which sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables which hreathe of the sweet south , And...

The Poetical Works of Lord Byron: With ... Notes and a Life of the ..., 1. kötet

George Gordon Byron Baron Byron - 1867 - 460 oldal
...That sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers Where recking London's smoky caldron simmers. UV. I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which...Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural, Which we're obliged to hiss, and spit, and sputter alL XLV. t like the women, too (forgive my folly),...




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