Romance of the Bourbon Châteaux

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G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1903 - Castles - 460 pages

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Page 434 - Je ne suis qu'au printemps, je veux voir la moisson; Et comme le soleil, de saison en saison, Je veux achever mon année. Brillante sur ma tige et l'honneur du jardin, Je n'ai vu luire encor que les feux du matin, Je veux achever ma journée.
Page 1 - Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; Though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all.
Page 452 - ... which they dig and stir with invincible obstinacy ; they have something like an articulate voice, and when they rise on their feet, they reveal a human face: and in fact, they are men. They retire at night into their lairs, where they live on black bread, water and roots.
Page 452 - ' certain wild animals, male and female, scattered over the fields, black, livid, all burnt by the sun, bound to the earth that they dig and work with unconquerable pertinacity ; they have a sort of articulate voice, and when they rise on their feet, they show a human face, and, in fact, are men.
Page 460 - With milkless breasts for little ones athirst, And round her all her noblest dying in vain, Mother of Reason is she, trebly cursed, To feel, to see, to justify the blow; Chamber to chamber of her sequent brain Gives answer of the cause of her great woe, Inexorably echoing thro' the vaults, ' 'Tis thus they reap in blood, in blood who sow : 'This is the sum of self-absolved faults.
Page 170 - Then peers grew proud in horsemanship t' excel, Newmarket's glory rose, as Britain's fell ; The soldier breath'd the gallantries of France, And ev'ry flowery courtier writ romance. Then marble, soften'd into life, grew warm, And yielding metal flow'd to human form : Lely on animated canvas stole The sleepy eye, that spoke the melting soul.
Page ix - J'aime à vous voir en vos cadres ovales, Portraits jaunis des belles du vieux temps, Tenant en main des roses un peu pâles, Comme il convient à des fleurs de cent ans. Le vent d'hiver, en vous touchant la joue , A fait mourir vos...
Page 205 - It was not peculiar to sir William Temple to think in that manner. How many Frenchmen are there who have seen our gardens, and still prefer natural flights of steps and shady cloisters covered with lead! Le Nautre, the architect of the groves and grottoes at Versailles, came hither on a mission to improve our taste.

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