Lord Byron and Some of His Contemporaries: With Recollections of the Author's Life, and of His Visit to Italy, Том 1H. Colburn, 1828 - 494 стор. |
З цієї книги
Результати 1-5 із 27
Сторінка xxii
... and his extraordinary forgetfulness of his own offences . The passage is quoted where he speaks of my " not very tractable children . " Thank God , they were not tractable to him ! I have something very awful to say xxii PREFACE TO.
... and his extraordinary forgetfulness of his own offences . The passage is quoted where he speaks of my " not very tractable children . " Thank God , they were not tractable to him ! I have something very awful to say xxii PREFACE TO.
Сторінка 11
... passage now and then , which showed that he was not incapable of it ; but the passion on which he delights to dwell , is either that of boys and girls , extremely prone and boarding - school ; or of heroines , who take a delight in ...
... passage now and then , which showed that he was not incapable of it ; but the passion on which he delights to dwell , is either that of boys and girls , extremely prone and boarding - school ; or of heroines , who take a delight in ...
Сторінка 103
... passage to Sestri , where a crowd of ple assailed us , like savages at an island , for our patronage and portmanteaus . They were robust , clamorous , fishy fellows , like so many children of the Tritons in Raphael's pictures ; as if ...
... passage to Sestri , where a crowd of ple assailed us , like savages at an island , for our patronage and portmanteaus . They were robust , clamorous , fishy fellows , like so many children of the Tritons in Raphael's pictures ; as if ...
Сторінка 112
... passage in the book- " At supper rose a dialogue on witches , " which I would quote also , only I am afraid Mr. Moore would think I was trespassing on the privileges of high life . Again ; Madame Piozzi says , " Once at our house ...
... passage in the book- " At supper rose a dialogue on witches , " which I would quote also , only I am afraid Mr. Moore would think I was trespassing on the privileges of high life . Again ; Madame Piozzi says , " Once at our house ...
Сторінка 126
... of Handel , applied to Arbuthnot to know whether the composer really deserved what was said of him . It was after making a similar inquiry respecting Mozart , that Lord Byron wrote the passage in his notes to Don Juan 126 LORD BYRON .
... of Handel , applied to Arbuthnot to know whether the composer really deserved what was said of him . It was after making a similar inquiry respecting Mozart , that Lord Byron wrote the passage in his notes to Don Juan 126 LORD BYRON .
Інші видання - Показати все
Загальні терміни та фрази
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
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 429 - 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.
Сторінка 434 - 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...
Сторінка 437 - 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.
Сторінка 435 - 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.
Сторінка 436 - 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...
Сторінка 436 - 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...
Сторінка 437 - 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?
Сторінка 411 - 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.
Сторінка 340 - 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.
Сторінка 437 - Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet Wherewith the seasonable month endows The grass, the thicket...