The Tourist in Switzerland and ItalyRobert Jennings, 1830 - 278 sider |
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Side 5
... looks , make their curtsy , take their seats , and try to be agreeable to their next neighbour ; yet now and then they ... look if they could help it , nor listen to the music , to which they now seem attentive . Tea comes at last , with ...
... looks , make their curtsy , take their seats , and try to be agreeable to their next neighbour ; yet now and then they ... look if they could help it , nor listen to the music , to which they now seem attentive . Tea comes at last , with ...
Side 12
... look of more spirit and vivacity than is generally produced by flesh and blood , however blooming and youthful . The most piercing eyes I ever beheld are those of Voltaire , now in his eightieth year . His whole countenance is ...
... look of more spirit and vivacity than is generally produced by flesh and blood , however blooming and youthful . The most piercing eyes I ever beheld are those of Voltaire , now in his eightieth year . His whole countenance is ...
Side 16
... look at the uncere- monious Piron , he exclaimed , " Est - ce que monsieur se moque de moi ? ” " Excusez , monsieur , " mildly retorted Piron , enjoying the rage and confusion of his rival , " mais ma santé est si faible que mon médecin ...
... look at the uncere- monious Piron , he exclaimed , " Est - ce que monsieur se moque de moi ? ” " Excusez , monsieur , " mildly retorted Piron , enjoying the rage and confusion of his rival , " mais ma santé est si faible que mon médecin ...
Side 51
... look'd for blood before , Now melting mournful lose themselves in tears . MOORE . It will be necessary that the tourist should penetrate a considerable distance into Switzerland , before he can form a correct judgment of the varieties ...
... look'd for blood before , Now melting mournful lose themselves in tears . MOORE . It will be necessary that the tourist should penetrate a considerable distance into Switzerland , before he can form a correct judgment of the varieties ...
Side 58
... looks like the smallest rivulet , and every thing which before appeared stupendous is now dwindled into miniature insignificance , except the mighty mountain , whose grandeur no height that man is able to attain can diminish . The path ...
... looks like the smallest rivulet , and every thing which before appeared stupendous is now dwindled into miniature insignificance , except the mighty mountain , whose grandeur no height that man is able to attain can diminish . The path ...
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Almindelige termer og sætninger
Alps amongst ancient appearance beautiful Bologna Bonnivard Bovinet Bridge of Sighs brother Bucentaur Calvin Cardinal castle CASTLE OF CHILLON celebrated Chillon church Council of Ten death delight doge ducal palace Duke Duke of Savoy dungeon Eckius edifice Engraved erected eyes Ezzelino feet Ferrara formed Foscari Francesco Foscari gallery garden Geneva genius Gibbon gondoliers hills honour inhabitants Italy lake Lausanne lofty Lord Byron Madame Madame de Stael magnificent mansion marble Martigny Milan Mont monument morning mountain never night noble observed Padua persons Petrarch Piron poet present Printed by Fenner prison Prout republic residence retreat Rhone Rialto rise rock Roman Rome says scene scenery seen side singular Sion snow spirit Stael stranger summit Tasso thing tion tower town traveller valley Vaud Venetian Venice Verona verses Vicenza villa visited Voltaire walk walls young
Populære passager
Side 24 - After laying down my pen I took several turns in a berceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent.
Side 40 - To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom, Their country conquers with their martyrdom, And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind. Chillon! thy prison is a holy place, And thy sad floor an altar - for 'twas trod, Until his very steps have left a trace Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, By Bonnivard! - May none those marks efface! For they appeal from tyranny to God.
Side 63 - Thus every good his native wilds impart, Imprints the patriot passion on his heart; And e'en those ills, that round his mansion rise, Enhance the bliss his scanty fund supplies. Dear is that shed to which his soul conforms, And dear that hill which lifts him to the storms; And as a child, when scaring sounds molest, Clings close and closer to the mother's breast, So the loud torrent, and the whirlwind's roar, But bind him to his native mountains more.
Side 261 - The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; An empty urn within her wither'd hands, Whose holy dust was scatter'd long ago ; The Scipios' tomb contains no ashes now ; The very sepulchres lie tenantless Of their heroic dwellers : dost thou flow, Old Tiber ! through a marble wilderness ? Rise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress.
Side 43 - Ran over with the glad surprise, And they that moment could not see I was the mate of misery ; But then by dull degrees came back My senses to their wonted track; I saw the dungeon walls and floor Close slowly round me as before...
Side 25 - I took several turns in a berceau, or covered walk of acacias, which commands a prospect of the country, the lake, and the mountains. The air was temperate, the sky was serene, the silver orb of the moon was reflected from the waters, and all nature was silent. I will not dissemble the first emotions of joy on the recovery of my freedom, and perhaps the establishment of my fame. But my pride was soon humbled, and a sober melancholy was spread over my mind, by the idea that I had taken an everlasting...
Side 265 - Where the car climbed the Capitol; far and wide Temple and tower went down, nor left a site: Chaos of ruins ! who shall trace the void, O'er the dim fragments cast a lunar light, And say—' Here was or is,
Side 181 - 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, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy...
Side 43 - A light broke in upon my brain, — It was the carol of a bird; It ceased, and then it came again, The sweetest song ear ever heard, And mine was thankful till my eyes...
Side 18 - Now, where the quick Rhone thus hath cleft his way, The mightiest of the storms hath ta'en his stand : For here, not one, but many, make their play, And fling their thunder-bolts from hand to hand, Flashing and cast around ; of all the band, The brightest through these parted hills hath forked His lightnings — as if he did understand, That in such gaps as desolation worked, There the hot shaft should blast whatever therein lurked.