The Englishman in Italy: Being a Collection of Verses Written by Some of Those who Have Loved ItalyClarendon Press, 1909 - 316 Seiten |
Inhalt
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| 171 | |
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Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen
The Englishman in Italy; Being a Collection of Verses Written by Some of ... George Hyde Wollaston Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2019 |
The Englishman in Italy; Being a Collection of Verses Written by Some of ... George Hyde Wollaston Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2012 |
Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen
Adonais Andrea del Sarto angel ANTISTROPHE Apennine beauty behold beneath blood breast breath bright brow BROWNING calm cloud cold D. G. Rossetti Dante dark dead dear death deep divine dream earth eyes face feet Florence flowers gleam glory grave Gravedona green Guercino hand hath hear heart heaven hills hour Italy J. A. SYMONDS kiss lady land leaves light lips live look LORD BYRON Menaggio Mentana mighty mother mountains never night o'er once P. B. SHELLEY pain pale pass praise Rome round Saint shine shore sigh silent Silvio Pellico skies sleep smile soft song soul spirit spring stand star sweet tears thee thine things thou art thought thro Toccata of Galuppi's towers twas Venetian Republic Venice voice W. S. LANDOR walls wandering wave weep wild wind youth ΙΟ бо
Beliebte Passagen
Seite 146 - Oh lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud! I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed! A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud.
Seite 100 - Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss, "Or there exceed the mark...
Seite 199 - His voice in all her music, from the moan Of thunder, to the song of night's sweet bird ; He is a presence to be felt and known In darkness and in light, from herb and stone, Spreading itself where'er that Power may move Which has withdrawn his being to its own ; Which wields the world with never- wearied love, Sustains it from beneath, and kindles it above.
Seite 47 - SAY NOT THE STRUGGLE NOUGHT AVAILETH Say not the struggle nought availeth, The labour and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor faileth. And as things have been they remain. If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars ; It may be, in yon smoke concealed, Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers, And, but for you, possess the field. For while the tired waves, vainly breaking. Seem here no painful inch to gain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making, Comes silent, flooding in, the main.
Seite 146 - ... horizon to the zenith's height, The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge Of the dying year, to which this closing night Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre...
Seite 80 - Apennine In the south dimly islanded ; And the Alps, whose snows are spread High between the clouds and sun ; And of living things each one ; And my spirit, which so long Darkened this swift stream of song, — Interpenetrated lie By the glory of the sky...
Seite 235 - 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...
Seite 111 - I enter, and I see thee in the gloom Of the long aisles, O poet saturnine ! And strive to make my steps keep pace with thine. The air is filled with some unknown perfume ; The congregation of the dead make room For thee to pass ; the votive tapers shine ; Like rooks that haunt Ravenna's groves of pine The hovering echoes fly from tomb to tomb. From the confessionals I hear arise Rehearsals of forgotten tragedies, And lamentations from the crypts below ; And then a voice celestial that begins With...
Seite 234 - 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.
Seite 204 - The massy earth and sphered skies are riven! I am borne darkly, fearfully, afar: Whilst burning through the inmost veil of Heaven, The soul of Adonais, like a star, Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are.