The Morning-land; Or, A Thousand and One Days in the East, Volume 1

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R. Bentley, 1851 - Caucasus
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Page 81 - ... acquired by degrees an expression of perfect scorn ; he clapped his hands — a sign at which my servant usually brought him a fresh pipe ; but this time Mirza-Schaffy asked for his thicksoled slippers. His request being immediately obeyed, he took one of them, and with it so unmercifully belabored the Wise Man of Bagdad, that the latter vainly sought to avoid his punishment by the most suppliant actions and entreaties. Mirza-Schaffy was inexorable. " What, — thou wilt be wiser than I ? I cannot...
Page 109 - Oh me ! my heart love's anguish has riven, Ask not, for whom ? To me the pain of parting was given, Ask not, by whom ?" So he sang in melancholy tone, and without wishing me good night, left the room.
Page 76 - ... darkness lies, Before me Kyros' waves are foaming, etc. I stepped out, the board on which I trod tottered beneath my feet — a shock — a shriek — and bleeding and moaning, I lay in the court below. Of the immediate consequences of this fall, which had nearly cost me my life, I will be silent ; for to keep a journal of one's sufferings is to suffer doubly. Suffice it to say that I was dangerously injured in several parts of my body, and that it required a painful cure and careful nursing,...
Page 295 - END OF VOL. I. LONDON : Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street.
Page 136 - What new thing can I learn from them, when they only repeat mine ? " He ordered a fresh chibouk, mused awhile meditatingly before him, bade us get ready the kalemdan (writing-stand), and then began to sing: — "Shall I laughing, shall I weeping Go, because men are so brute, Always foreign sense repeating, And in self-expression mute? •No, the Maker's praise shall rise For the foolish...
Page 269 - Tread upon the rose with thy feet — and its thorns amaze thee; watch over it with love and care, and it will bloom and be fragrant, an ornament to itself and thee. " Make thyself of thine own accord a slave to a woman, and she will not bear it, but will herself bow before thee, and in thankful love look up to...
Page 26 - As thou, Aliona Dmitrevna, drankest in his words, thou didst pale and tremble, my fair one, like an aspen leaf wind-shaken. Bitter tears rolled down her cheeks, and she threw herself at her husband's feet. 'O thou, my lord, thou my bright sun! O hear me freely, or bid me die! Like a keen-edged sword are thy words unto me, bleeding my heart. I fear not the torment of death, and not the common opinion; 'tis thy low regard that I fear. 'As from the vesper prayers home I came down the desolate streets,...
Page 30 - ... city of golden church-domes, over the ancient Kremlin's white stone walls, from behind the far-sounding forests and mountains blue, gilding the tiled roofs of mansions, and driving before her the gray-white clouds, climbs the light of the rosy morn. Her ringlets of gold unfurled to the breeze, she bathes her face in the crystal snow; like a beauty herself in a mirror beholding, smiling she gazes into the cloudless bright sky. Say, wherefore, O rosy morn, hast thou awakened? Why so joyous, what...
Page 31 - ... lastly to all the assembled people. His falcon eyes flash, fixedly scanning the lifeguardsman. He places himself opposite him, draws on his boxing gloves, straightens his powerful shoulders and strokes his curly beard. Then spake to him Kiribejevich: 'But tell me, O comrade bold, of what lineage, what race art thou, and by what name dost thou call thyself? That I may know of whom to sing the requiem, over whose death to exult?

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