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 6-10 із 38
Сторінка 22
... hope . He could not be otherwise . But he prepared me to find others not exactly what I had taken them for . I little thought at the time , how much reason I should have to remember his words . Leghorn is a polite Wapping , with a ...
... hope . He could not be otherwise . But he prepared me to find others not exactly what I had taken them for . I little thought at the time , how much reason I should have to remember his words . Leghorn is a polite Wapping , with a ...
Сторінка 26
... hope was given us by others that she would survive beyond the year . She is now alive , and likely to live many years ; and Vaccà is dead . I do not say this to his disparagement ; for he was very skilful , and deserved his cele- brity ...
... hope was given us by others that she would survive beyond the year . She is now alive , and likely to live many years ; and Vaccà is dead . I do not say this to his disparagement ; for he was very skilful , and deserved his cele- brity ...
Сторінка 38
... hope . " The Italians are very kind to bad speakers of their language , and ought to shame us in that matter . I confess , I can never hear a foreigner speak bad English with- out such a tendency to laugh as puts me to the torture ...
... hope . " The Italians are very kind to bad speakers of their language , and ought to shame us in that matter . I confess , I can never hear a foreigner speak bad English with- out such a tendency to laugh as puts me to the torture ...
Сторінка 64
... hope , which I tried hard to indulge ; and there was always some joking going forward ; some melancholy mirth , which a spectator might have taken for pleasure . Our manner of life was this . Lord Byron , who used to sit up at night ...
... hope , which I tried hard to indulge ; and there was always some joking going forward ; some melancholy mirth , which a spectator might have taken for pleasure . Our manner of life was this . Lord Byron , who used to sit up at night ...
Сторінка 74
... hope of doing it away . The worst thing she did ( and which showed to every body else , though not to herself , that she entertained no real love for Lord Byron ) was to indulge in vehement complaints of him to his acquaintances . The ...
... hope of doing it away . The worst thing she did ( and which showed to every body else , though not to herself , that she entertained no real love for Lord Byron ) was to indulge in vehement complaints of him to his acquaintances . The ...
Інші видання - Показати все
Загальні терміни та фрази
acquaintance admired Albaro appeared Bard Baubo Bay of Spezia beauty believe body Captain CHIG UNIV compliment connexion critics DEAR HUNT delight Don Juan doubt England English eyes fancy Faust feel genius Genoa give Goethe 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 Medwin Meph MICHI UNIV Moore moral nature never noble occasion opinion Parisina passage passion perhaps person Pisa pleasure poem poet poetical poetry pretended reader reason respect Rimini RSITY UNIVE sense Shelley Shelley's sincerity SITY sort speak spirit spleen talk tell thing thou thought tion told took truth UNIV RSITY UNIV UNIV Via Reggio wish word write written
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 syrops, 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 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 364 - Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear...
Сторінка 428 - Of fruits, and flowers, and bunches of knot-grass, And diamonded with panes of quaint device...
Сторінка 364 - The City's voice itself is soft like Solitude's. I see the Deep's untrampled floor With green and purple seaweeds strown ; I see the waves upon the shore, Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown : I sit upon the sands alone, The lightning of the noontide ocean Is flashing round me, and a tone Arises from its measured motion, How sweet ! did any heart now share in my emotion. III. Alas ! I have nor hope nor health, Nor peace within nor calm around...
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 434 - Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone...
Сторінка 435 - O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene...
Сторінка 419 - Knowing within myself (he says) the manner in which this Poem has been produced, it is not without a feeling of regret that I make it public.— What manner I mean, will be quite clear to the reader, who must soon perceive great inexperience, immaturity, and every error denoting a feverish attempt, rather than a deed accomplished.'— Preface, p.
Сторінка 437 - Forlorn ! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self ! J Adieu ! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is famed to do, deceiving elf.