Letters from ItalyBaker and Scribner, 1848 - 224 sider |
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Side 10
... . It was a holiday when we entered port , and added to all this beauty and sweetness , the chime of a hundred bells came merrily down to the bay . Yours , & c . AN ITALIAN WOMAN . 11 LETTER III . First Impressions 10 LETTERS FROM ITALY .
... . It was a holiday when we entered port , and added to all this beauty and sweetness , the chime of a hundred bells came merrily down to the bay . Yours , & c . AN ITALIAN WOMAN . 11 LETTER III . First Impressions 10 LETTERS FROM ITALY .
Side 11
J. T. Headley. AN ITALIAN WOMAN . 11 LETTER III . First Impressions - An Italian Woman - Lunatics . GENOA , October . DEAR E. - I cannot convey to you the strange feelings with which I first stepped on a foreign shore , and that shore ...
J. T. Headley. AN ITALIAN WOMAN . 11 LETTER III . First Impressions - An Italian Woman - Lunatics . GENOA , October . DEAR E. - I cannot convey to you the strange feelings with which I first stepped on a foreign shore , and that shore ...
Side 13
... woman considers herself sold by a mercenary parent , and clings to her lover , while she is willing her husband should also follow his in- clinations . And when we remember in what manner marriages are contracted in this country ...
... woman considers herself sold by a mercenary parent , and clings to her lover , while she is willing her husband should also follow his in- clinations . And when we remember in what manner marriages are contracted in this country ...
Side 14
... woman . The morning after she was led to the altar , she sat by her window with pale coun- tenance and swollen eyes , watching his coming . But he came no more . The heavy hours wore on , and at length a messenger came and told her he ...
... woman . The morning after she was led to the altar , she sat by her window with pale coun- tenance and swollen eyes , watching his coming . But he came no more . The heavy hours wore on , and at length a messenger came and told her he ...
Side 20
... woman . She is now a widow , and is called the beautiful Countess of I was amused with an illustration of Italian character , in an incident that occurred while visiting another house that the owners wished to let . A woman showed us ...
... woman . She is now a widow , and is called the beautiful Countess of I was amused with an illustration of Italian character , in an incident that occurred while visiting another house that the owners wished to let . A woman showed us ...
Andre udgaver - Se alle
Almindelige termer og sætninger
Alpine Alps amid Appian arches army artists ascend avalanches awful beautiful bosom Byron Cæsars carriage castle church Civita Vecchia cloud Coliseum column dark DEAR E.-I deep descended distant English entered face feelings feet fell Florence gazed Genoa glaciers glorious Goldau half hand head heard heart heavens hill Holy Week horses hour Italian Italy Koenigsfelden lady lake Lake Lucerne land laugh length LETTER look magnificent marble miles Mont Blanc morning mountain Naples never night noble palace passed pasturages path Peter's Pompeii Pope precipice priest quiet Rhine roar rocks rolled Roman Forum Rome ruins scene scenery scoria seemed shore side silent snow stands stood storm strange streets strolled suddenly summit Suwarrow sweet Swiss Switzerland Terni thing thought thunder Tiber traveller turned valley Vesuvius walk wall whole wild wind wonder
Populære passager
Side 26 - 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 131 - Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Side 112 - And there they stand, as stands a lofty mind, Worn, but unstooping to the baser crowd, All tenantless, save to the crannying wind, Or holding dark communion with the cloud.
Side 124 - The castled crag of Drachenfels("> Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine, Whose breast of waters broadly swells Between the banks which bear the vine, And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, And fields which promise corn and wine, And scatter'd cities crowning these, Whose far white walls along them shine, Have strew'da scene, which I should see With double joy wert thou with me ! 2.
Side 183 - The roar of waters ! — from the headlong height Velino cleaves the wave-worn precipice ; The fall of waters ! rapid as the light The flashing mass foams shaking the abyss ; The hell of waters ! where they howl and hiss, And boil in endless torture ; while the sweat Of their great agony, wrung out from this Their Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jet gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set, LXX.
Side 29 - Clear, placid Leman ! thy contrasted lake, With the wild world I dwelt in, is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake Earth's troubled waters for a purer spring. This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing To waft me from distraction : once I loved Torn ocean's roar, but thy soft murmuring Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved, That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
Side 116 - The negligently grand, the fruitful bloom Of coming ripeness, the white city's sheen, The rolling stream, the precipice's gloom, The forest's growth, and Gothic walls between, The wild rocks shaped as they had turrets been, In mockery of man's art...
Side 149 - Were with his heart, and that was far away. He recked not of the life he lost, nor prize; But where his rude hut by the Danube lay, There were his young barbarians all at play, There was their Dacian mother, — he, their sire, Butchered to make a Roman holiday!
Side 143 - twere anew, the gaps of centuries; Leaving that beautiful which still was so, And making that which was not, till the place Became religion, and the heart ran o'er With silent worship of the great of old! — The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule Our spirits from their urns.
Side 145 - This grave contains all that was mortal of a young English poet, who, on his death-bed, in the bitterness of his heart at the malicious power of his enemies, desired these words to be engraven on his tombstone : " Here lies one whose name was writ in water...