Letters from Spain, Italy, and Germany: During a Residence on the Continent of Four Years

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author, 1858 - Europe - 474 pages
 

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Page 194 - But pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, its bloom is shed; Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white — then melts for ever; Or like the borealis race, That flit ere you can point their place; Or like the rainbow's lovely form Evanishing amid the storm. — Nae man can tether time or tide; The hour approaches Tarn maun ride; That hour, o...
Page 83 - Orsini lived ; and long might'st thou have seen An old man wandering as in quest of something, Something he could not find, he knew not what.
Page 82 - Her vest of gold Broidered with flowers, and clasped from head to foot: An emerald stone in every golden clasp; And on her brow, fairer than alabaster, A coronet of pearls. But then her face, So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth, — The overflowings of an innocent heart, — It haunts me still, though many a year has fled, Like some wild melody.
Page 82 - With scripture-stories from the life of Christ ; A chest that came from VENICE, and had held The ducal robes of some old ancestor. That by the way — it may be true or false — But don't forget the picture ; and thou wilt not, When thou hast heard the tale they told me there. She was an only child ; from infancy The joy, the pride, of an indulgent sire.
Page 81 - Dwelt in of old by one of the Orsini. Its noble gardens, terrace above terrace, And rich in fountains, statues, cypresses, Will long detain...
Page 82 - A coronet of pearls. But then her face, So lovely, yet so arch, so full of mirth, The overflowings of an innocent heart, — It haunts me still, though many a year has fled, Like some wild melody! Alone it hangs Over a mouldering heirloom, its companion, An oaken chest, half eaten by the worm, But richly carved by Antony of Trent With Scripture stories from the life of Christ; A chest that came from Venice, and had held The ducal robes of some old Ancestor...
Page 317 - Are we a piece of machinery, which, like the ^Eolian harp, passive, takes the impression of the passing accident ; or do these workings argue Something within us above the trodden clod ? I own myself partial to such proofs of those awful and important realities : a God that made all things, man's immaterial and immortal nature, and a world of weal or woe beyond death and the grave.
Page 83 - And filled his glass to all ; but his hand shook, And soon from guest to guest the panic spread. ' Twas but an instant she had left Francesco, Laughing and looking back, and flying still, Her ivory tooth imprinted on his finger. But now, alas ! she was not to be found ; Nor from that hour could...
Page 82 - And-in her fifteenth year became a bride. Marrying an only son, Francesco Doria, Her playmate from her birth, and her first love. Just as she looks there in her bridal dress, She was all gentleness, all gaiety, Her pranks the favourite theme of every tongue.
Page 306 - quali, in persona della Notte, rispose Michelagnolo così : Grato mi è il sonno , e più l'esser di sasso, Mentre che il danno e la vergogna dura , Non veder, non sentir, m' è gran ventura : Però non mi destar ; deh parla basso.

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