...love the language, that soft bastard F,aliu, Which melts like kisses from a female mouib, And sound* as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables which...the sweet south, And gentle liquids gliding all so pal in, That not a single accent seems uncouth, Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural,...

...language, when he calls it " that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female month, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables which breathe of the sweet south." So of their architecture I adapt another quotation from the same illustrious bard, and you may see...

...sort of farthing-candle light, which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky cauldron simmers. XLIV. I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mouth, Aud sounds as if it should be writ on satin, Wilb syllables which breathe of the sweet soulh, And genlle...

...borrow That sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky caldron simmers. 1 love the language, that soft bastard. Latin, Which...from a female mouth, And sounds as if it should be wiit on satin, With syllables which breathe of the sweet South, And gentle liquids gliding all so pat...

...borrow That sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky caldron simmers. '. love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melts like kisses from a female mouth, x^ Vnd sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables which breathe of the sweet South, knd...

...of Childe Harold does of their language, when he calls it " that «oft bastard Latin, Which mi'lts like kisses from a female mouth, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllable« which breathe of the sweet south." So of their architecture I adapt another quotation from...

...XLIV. I love the langtrage, that soft bastard Latin, Which mclU like kisses from a female mouth, Aad sounds as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables...gentle liquids gliding all so pat in, That not a single acceut seems uncouth, Like our harsh northern whistling grunting guttural, Which we're obliged to hiss,...

...and animates. l Because they know the world, and are at ease, And, being natural, naturally please.' I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which...as if it should be writ on satin, With syllables, that breath of the sweet South, And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in, That not a single accent...

...That sort of farthing candlelight which glimmers Where reeking London's smoky caldron simmers. XLIV. I love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which...mouth, And sounds as if it should be writ on satin, XL. And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in, That not a single accent seems uncouth, Like our harsh...

...reeking London's smoky cauldron simmers. XLIV. { love the language, that soft bastard Latin, Which melt» like kisses from a female mouth, And sounds as if...sweet south, And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in, Tnat not a single accent seems uncouth, Like our harsh northern whistling, granting guttural, Which...