With Byron in Italy: A Selection of the Poems and Letters of Lord Byron Relating to His Life in ItalyT. F. Unwin, 1907 - 327 |
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Strona 8
... DEAR SIR , It is some months since I have heard from or of you I think , not since I left Diodati . From Milan I wrote once or twice ; but have been here some little time , and intend to pass the winter without removing . I was much ...
... DEAR SIR , It is some months since I have heard from or of you I think , not since I left Diodati . From Milan I wrote once or twice ; but have been here some little time , and intend to pass the winter without removing . I was much ...
Strona 15
... TO JOHN MURRAY VENICE , March 25 , 1817 . DEAR SIR , Your letter and enclosure are safe ; but " English gentlemen " are very rare at least in Venice . -- I doubt whether there are at present any , [ 15 ] THE YEARS 1817 , 1818 , 1819.
... TO JOHN MURRAY VENICE , March 25 , 1817 . DEAR SIR , Your letter and enclosure are safe ; but " English gentlemen " are very rare at least in Venice . -- I doubt whether there are at present any , [ 15 ] THE YEARS 1817 , 1818 , 1819.
Strona 24
... dear ; But thou art dearest still , and I should be Fit for this cell which wrongs me but for thee . The very love which lock'd me to my chain Hath lighten'd half its weight ; and for the rest , Though heavy , lent me vigour to sustain ...
... dear ; But thou art dearest still , and I should be Fit for this cell which wrongs me but for thee . The very love which lock'd me to my chain Hath lighten'd half its weight ; and for the rest , Though heavy , lent me vigour to sustain ...
Strona 27
... dear- Go ! tell thy brother , that my heart , untamed By grief , years , weariness and it may be A taint of that he would impute to me From long infection of a den like this , Where the mind rots congenial with the abyss , - Adores thee ...
... dear- Go ! tell thy brother , that my heart , untamed By grief , years , weariness and it may be A taint of that he would impute to me From long infection of a den like this , Where the mind rots congenial with the abyss , - Adores thee ...
Strona 32
... DEAR SIR , By this post ( or next at farthest ) I send you , in two other covers , the new third act of Manfred . I 1 See " Childe Harold , " IV , stanza lx . dal 質 Florence . Mausoleum of the Medica ' s [ 32 ] WITH BYRON IN ITALY ...
... DEAR SIR , By this post ( or next at farthest ) I send you , in two other covers , the new third act of Manfred . I 1 See " Childe Harold , " IV , stanza lx . dal 質 Florence . Mausoleum of the Medica ' s [ 32 ] WITH BYRON IN ITALY ...
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Inne wydania - Wyświetl wszystko
With Byron in Italy Anna Benneson Mcmahan,George Gordon Byron,A C McClurg and Co Podgląd niedostępny - 2023 |
Kluczowe wyrazy i wyrażenia
Abbot Adah Arqua aught bard beauty blood breast breath brow bust Byron Cain Canova Canto Childe Harold clime Dante dead dear death decay deep didst Doge Don Juan dost doth dust earth England English eternal eyes fame father feel Ferrara Florence forget Francesca of Rimini gallery genius gentle Giorgione glory grave Guiccioli hath heart heaven Hobhouse hour immortal Italian Italy JOHN MURRAY JOHN MURRAY VENICE lady least Leigh Hunt letter live look Lord Lord Byron Lucifer Manfred marble mind mortal mountains ne'er never night o'er ocean once palace passions Petrarch Pisa poem poet poetry published Ravenna Romagna Rome ruin scene seen Shelley shine shore soul spirit stanza stars sweet Tasso thee thine things THOMAS MOORE thou art thought Titian tomb tower tree tyrants Venetian walls wave woes words
Popularne fragmenty
Strona 71 - Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, ye! Whose agonies are evils of a day — A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. LXXIX. The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe; An empty urn within...
Strona 104 - Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests; in all time, Calm or convulsed — in breeze or gale or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime, Dark-heaving, boundless, endless and sublime — The image of eternity — the throne Of the Invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the deep are made; each zone Obeys thee; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone.
Strona 79 - There is a stern round tower of other days, Firm as a fortress, with its fence of stone, Such as an army's baffled strength delays, Standing with half its battlements alone, And with two thousand years of ivy grown, The garland of eternity, where wave The green leaves over all by time o'erthrown ; — What was this tower of strength ? within its cave What treasure lay so lock'd, so hid ? — A woman's grave.
Strona 104 - There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society, where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, •To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean— roll!
Strona 60 - 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.
Strona 38 - Midst the chief relics of almighty Rome; The trees which grew along the broken arches Waved dark in the blue midnight, and the stars Shone through the rents of ruin; from afar The watch-dog bayed beyond the Tiber ; and More near from out the Caesars...
Strona 279 - Must we but blush? — Our fathers bled. Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three To make a new Thermopylae! What, silent still ? and silent all ? Ah, no; — the voices of the dead Sound like a distant torrent's fall, And answer, " Let one living head, But one, arise — we come, we come!
Strona 104 - Ye Elements, in whose ennobling stir I feel myself exalted, can ye not Accord me such a being ? Do I err In deeming such inhabit many a spot, Though with them to converse can rarely be our lot...
Strona 60 - In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more, And silent rows the songless gondolier ; Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, And music meets not always now the ear, 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, 18 The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy...
Strona 96 - But thou, of temples old, or altars new, Standest alone, with nothing like to thee — Worthiest of God, the holy and the true. Since Zion's desolation, when that He Forsook his former city, what could be, Of earthly structures, in his honour piled, Of a sublimer aspect? Majesty, Power, Glory, Strength, and Beauty all are aisled In this eternal ark of worship undefiled.