Cosa dicono le persone - Scrivi una recensione
Nessuna recensione trovata nei soliti posti.
Amid Anacreon ancient Apennine Appian bard beauty behold Benedicite benigna stella blessed blest bliss born brain breath dark divine dreams dull dumb dwell dyspepsia earth eyes fame fancies fane felucca Flamen Forum friends gaze glory gondoliers GROOMSMAN GUY FAWKES hand hath heard heart heaven hither hushed knew lady land Latium life's light lips look lyre marble mare irato MELIBCEUS METASTASIO midnight morning murmur muse Naiads Naples night numbers o'er ocean Peace perchance poet poor race renown repose rest rills Roman Rome rose round sacred Saint Savona scarce scene seemed shore sigh silent sleep smile song soon soul sound spirit strain strange subita procella sullen sweet sweet oblivion Tanai Thebes thee thine thou thought throng Tiber Tibur town tread Trieste triumph Tuscan Venice verse virgin wandering whispered wine
Pagina 47 - SEE, from this counterfeit of him Whom Arno shall remember long, How stern of lineament, how grim The father was of Tuscan song. There but the burning sense of wrong, Perpetual care and scorn abide ; Small friendship for the lordly throng ; Distrust of all the world beside. Faithful if this wan image be, No dream his life was, — but a fight; Could any BEATRICE see A lover in that anchorite? To that cold Ghibeline's gloomy sight Who could have guessed the visions came Of beauty, veiled with heavenly...
Pagina 121 - La procellosa e trepida gioia d'un gran disegno, l'ansia d'un cor che indocile serve, pensando al regno; e il giunge, e tiene un premio ch'era follia sperar; tutto ei provò: la gloria maggior dopo il periglio, la fuga e la vittoria, la reggia e il triste esiglio: due volte nella polvere due volte sull'altar. Ei si nomò: due secoli, l'un contro l'altro armato, sommessi a lui si volsero, come aspettando il fato; ei fe' silenzio, ed arbitro s'assise in mezzo a lor.
Pagina 123 - E sparve, ei dì nell'ozio chiuse in sì breve sponda, segno d'immensa invidia e di pietà profonda, d'inestinguibil odio e d'indomato amor. Come sul capo al naufrago l'onda s'avvolve e pesa, l'onda su cui del misero, alta pur dianzi e tesa, scorrea la vista a scernere prode remote invan; tal su quell'alma il cumulo delle memorie scese!
Pagina 128 - I may have but a minute to speak to you. My dear, be a good man — be virtuous — be religious — be a good man. Nothing else will give you any comfort when you come to lie here.
Pagina 128 - As I was dressing, on the morning of Monday, the 17th of September, Nicolsori came into my room, and told me that his master had awoke in a state of composure and consciousness, and wished to see me immediately. I found him entirely himself, though in the last extreme of feebleness. His eye was clear and calm ; — every trace of the wild fire of delirium extinguished. * Lockhart,' he said, ' I may have but a minute to speak to you.
Pagina 76 - ... permission, To himself his mistress took, And the Destinies recorded Other two within their book. While the priest fulfilled his office, Still the ground the lovers eyed, And the parents and the kinsmen Aimed their glances at the bride; But the groomsmen eyed the virgins Who were waiting at her side.
Pagina 128 - September, Sir Walter breathed his last, in the presence of all his children. It was a beautiful day, — so warm that every window was wide open, — and so perfectly still that the sound of all others most delicious to his ear, the gentle ripple of the Tweed over its pebbles, was distinctly audible as we knelt around the bed, and his eldest son kissed and closed his eyes.
Pagina 47 - Perpetual care and scorn, abide ; Small friendship for the lordly throng ; Distrust of all the world beside. Faithful if this wan image be, No dream his life was — but a fight ; Could any Beatrice see A lover in that anchorite ? To that cold Ghibeline's gloomy sight Who could have guessed the visions came Of Beauty, veiled with heavenly light, In circles of eternal flame...
Pagina 179 - This good saint was no physician. ]SText, in pleasant Normandie, I made a prayer to Saint Denis, In the great cathedral, where All the ancient kings repose ; But, how I was swindled there At the
Pagina 78 - ... o'er the sunny farms had crept, Near the walls the ducal herdsman by the dusty roadside slept ; While his camels, resting round him, half alarmed the sullen ox, Seeing those Arabian monsters pasturing with Etruria's flocks. Then it was, like one who wandered, lately, singing by the Rhine, Strains perchance to maiden's hearing sweeter than this verse of mine, That we bade Imagination lift us on her wing divine, And the days of Pisa's greatness rose from the sepulchral past, When a thousand conquering...