Dante Gabriel Rossetti: A Record and a StudyMacmillan and Company, 1882 - 432 стор. |
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Сторінка 7
... the resort of many who could not fail to leave a more or less definite impress upon sensitive minds however young . I remember having heard that amongst those visitors was one swarthy Italian republican , with the odour I. 7 LIFE .
... the resort of many who could not fail to leave a more or less definite impress upon sensitive minds however young . I remember having heard that amongst those visitors was one swarthy Italian republican , with the odour I. 7 LIFE .
Сторінка 8
... young Rossettis , especially for the impressible Gabriel , who . many years later wrought partly from imagination and partly from memory the tragic dramatic poem A Last Confession . It is a fact of great significance that the earliest ...
... young Rossettis , especially for the impressible Gabriel , who . many years later wrought partly from imagination and partly from memory the tragic dramatic poem A Last Confession . It is a fact of great significance that the earliest ...
Сторінка 9
... young poet had in his eighth or ninth year been sent to a private school close to his father's house , where throughout the greater part of a year he received some rudimentary instruction from the Rev. Mr. Paul ; and in 1835 he was ...
... young poet had in his eighth or ninth year been sent to a private school close to his father's house , where throughout the greater part of a year he received some rudimentary instruction from the Rev. Mr. Paul ; and in 1835 he was ...
Сторінка 12
... young Rossetti of 1846-47 , and this moreover by an early and ill - hung work in the Royal Academy . At the time Rossetti entered Mr. Madox Brown's studio the latter was engaged on the large picture of Chaucer at the Court of Edward III ...
... young Rossetti of 1846-47 , and this moreover by an early and ill - hung work in the Royal Academy . At the time Rossetti entered Mr. Madox Brown's studio the latter was engaged on the large picture of Chaucer at the Court of Edward III ...
Сторінка 13
... young painter- poet came across some magazine verses , which he much admired , especially a ballad called Rosabel , and on the impulse at once wrote to the author , Mr. William Bell Scott . In writing , he also enclosed several short ...
... young painter- poet came across some magazine verses , which he much admired , especially a ballad called Rosabel , and on the impulse at once wrote to the author , Mr. William Bell Scott . In writing , he also enclosed several short ...
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Загальні терміни та фрази
amongst artist Astarte Syriaca ballad Beata Beatrix Beatrice beautiful belonging Blessed Damozel blue Bower called chalk charm Christina Rossetti colour composition Crayons Dante Gabriel Rossetti Dante Rossetti Dante's Dream dark death drawing early emotion exhibited expression exquisite eyes F. R. Leyland face figure finished Ford Madox Brown genius George Rae Germ golden Graham green hair Hand and Soul head heart Italian Lady latter Lilith lines look lovers lyric Madox Brown motif nature once original painter painting Pandora passion Pencil Penkill Castle picture poem poet poetic poetry Portrait Preraphaelite Proserpina recognised referred remarkable rendering replica robe Rose Mary Ruskin sestet Sister Helen sketch song sonnet spirit stanzas strange thee Theodore Watts thou tion truth Venus Verticordia verse Vision of Fiammetta Vita Nuova W. M. Rossetti Wat.-Col water-colour wherein William William Bell Scott wings words young
Популярні уривки
Сторінка 319 - Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops — at the bent spray's edge- — That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture!
Сторінка 346 - I HAVE been here before, But when or how I cannot tell: I know the grass beyond the door, The sweet keen smell, The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.
Сторінка 249 - THE blessed damozel leaned out From the gold bar of Heaven ; Her eyes were deeper than the depth Of waters stilled at even ; She had three lilies in her hand, And the stars in her hair were seven...
Сторінка 304 - TELL me now in what hidden way is Lady Flora the lovely Roman ? Where's Hipparchia, and where is Thais, Neither of them the fairer woman? Where is Echo, beheld of no man, Only heard on river and mere, — She whose beauty was more than human? But where are the snows of yester-year?
Сторінка 427 - Man's measured path is all gone o'er: Up all his years, steeply, with strain and sigh, Man clomb until he touched the truth; and I, Even I, am he whom it was destined for." How should this be? Art thou then so much more Than they who sowed, that thou shouldst reap thereby? Nay, come up hither. From this wave-washed mound Unto the furthest flood-brim look with me; Then reach on with thy thought till it be drown'd. Miles and miles distant though the last line be, And though thy soul sail leagues and...
Сторінка 430 - ... called No-more, Too-late, Farewell ; Unto thine ear I hold the dead-sea shell Cast up thy Life's foam-fretted feet between ; Unto thine eyes the glass where that is seen Which had Life's form and Love's, but by my spell Is now a shaken shadow intolerable, Of ultimate things unuttered the frail screen. Mark me, how still I am...
Сторінка 302 - The life-blood of rhythmical translation is this commandment, — that a good poem shall not be turned into a bad one. The only true motive for putting poetry into a fresh language must be to endow a fresh nation, as far as possible, with one more possession of beauty. Poetry not being an exact science, literality of rendering is altogether secondary to this chief law. I say literality, — not fidelity, which is by no means the same thing.
Сторінка 359 - Her hood falls back, and the moon shines fair, Sister Helen, On the Lady of Ewern's golden hair." " Blest hour of my power and her despair, Little brother...
Сторінка 250 - And still she bowed herself and stooped Out of the circling charm ; Until her bosom must have made The bar she leaned on warm, And the lilies lay as if asleep Along her bended arm.
Сторінка 272 - For it is not metres, but a metre-making argument, that makes a poem, — a thought so passionate and alive, that, like the spirit of a plant or an animal, it has an architecture of its own, and adorns nature with a new thing.
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