Memoirs of Chateaubriand: From His Birth in 1768, Till His Return to France in 1800

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Henry Colburn, 1849 - 456 páginas
 

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Página 421 - No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world, with vilest worms to dwell : Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it ; for I love you so That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot If thinking on me then should make you woe.
Página 61 - Lo pane altrui, e com' è duro calle Lo scendere, e 'l salir per l' altrui scale. E quel, che più ti graverà le spalle, Sarà la compagnia malvagia e scempia, Con la qual tu cadrai in questa valle : Che tutta ingrata, tutta matta ed empia Si farà contra te : ma poco appresso Ella, non tu, n
Página 440 - Fly from the French Constitution.'" [Mr. Fox here whispered, that "there was no loss of friendship."] Mr. Burke said, "Yes, there was a loss of friendship; — he knew the price of his conduct; — he had done his duty at the price of his friend ; — their friendship was at an end.
Página 437 - Ah, happy hills, ah, pleasing shade, Ah, fields beloved in vain, Where once my careless childhood strayed, A stranger yet to pain! I feel the gales, that from ye blow, A momentary bliss bestow, As waving fresh their gladsome wing, My weary soul they seem to soothe, And, redolent of joy and youth, To breathe a second spring.
Página 428 - Combourg, the country has a savage aspect; husbandry not much further advanced, at least in skill, than among the Hurons, which appears incredible amidst inclosures; the people almost as wild as their country, and their town of Combourg one of the most brutal filthy places that can be seen...
Página 287 - Já não quer que viva. Eu nunca vi rosa Em suaves molhos, Que para meus olhos Fosse mais formosa.
Página 322 - I have had a good time of it ; let me go to sleep.' Then to the executioner — ' You will show my head to the people ; it is worth the trouble.
Página 375 - Thus, thus, quoth Forrest, girdling one another Within their alabaster, innocent arms : Their lips were four red roses on a stalk, Which, in their summer beauty, kissed each other. A book of prayers on their pillow lay ; Which once...
Página 26 - Chateaubriand, pourquoi fuir ta patrie, Fuir son amour, notre encens et nos soins? N'entends-tu pas la France qui s'écrie: Mon beau ciel pleure une étoile de moins!
Página 253 - ... dictator, be any other than a clown, urging his oxen with the goad, and holding the handle of the plough ? But when I went to deliver my letter of recommendation to this great man, I found in him the simplicity of the old Roman. " A small house in the English style, resembling the neighbouring houses, was the palace of the president of the United States : no guards, nor even footmen. I knocked : a servant girl opened the door. I inquired if the General was at home ; she answered, that he was....

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