Italy: a poem. With historical and classical notes |
Dentro del libro
Resultados 6-10 de 62
Página 301
... say , where hath Change so wrought ? Where Mutability so fixed her throne ? Where Desolation poured her vials fraught With wrath , its deep pollutions to atone ? Lightnings have scathed - earth heaved - the thunder- stone , Blasted ...
... say , where hath Change so wrought ? Where Mutability so fixed her throne ? Where Desolation poured her vials fraught With wrath , its deep pollutions to atone ? Lightnings have scathed - earth heaved - the thunder- stone , Blasted ...
Página 348
... says Goethe , in one of his happier moods , " the more it strikes me that there is something so " idle , I could almost say buffoonish in Talk , that one is awe- " stricken before the deep solemn Silence of Nature , as soon 66 as one ...
... says Goethe , in one of his happier moods , " the more it strikes me that there is something so " idle , I could almost say buffoonish in Talk , that one is awe- " stricken before the deep solemn Silence of Nature , as soon 66 as one ...
Página 355
... says Hazlitt , in one of his happier moments , more than any other antique head , combines truth and " beauty with deep passion . But here the passion is fixed- " intense - habitual ; it is not a sudden or violent gesticula- “ tion ...
... says Hazlitt , in one of his happier moments , more than any other antique head , combines truth and " beauty with deep passion . But here the passion is fixed- " intense - habitual ; it is not a sudden or violent gesticula- “ tion ...
Página 358
... says this divine writer , " to gain Virtue , for the reward is beautiful , and the hope mighty and it is necessary to allure ourselves with " such things , as with enchantments . " From the minds of others we build up our own - they are ...
... says this divine writer , " to gain Virtue , for the reward is beautiful , and the hope mighty and it is necessary to allure ourselves with " such things , as with enchantments . " From the minds of others we build up our own - they are ...
Página 359
... says the critic , “ est " si semblable , qu'il semble impossible que toute la Statue " ne soit du même artiste . " XXXVII . The severed head of the Medusa lies . The only notice I have ever seen of this impressive Pic- ture is given in ...
... says the critic , “ est " si semblable , qu'il semble impossible que toute la Statue " ne soit du même artiste . " XXXVII . The severed head of the Medusa lies . The only notice I have ever seen of this impressive Pic- ture is given in ...
Términos y frases comunes
Æneid ages Altar arch of Titus awful azure beautiful Behold beneath blessed bosom breast breath brow Cæsar Caligula CANTO Carthage Cicero Clouds confessed crowned Cuma dared dark death divine dost doth dream dust dwells earth eloquent eternal fame feel felt Florence flowers gaze glory grey hath heart heaven hills hope hour hues human immortal impression inspired Italy life's light Liternum living look Lord Byron majesty marble memory Messalina Michael Angelo mighty mind moral mountains Naples Nature Nature's o'er once Paradise passion Phædo Plato Poet Pompeii pride Ravenna rays repose rise rolled Roman Rome round ruins scene shadows shore shrine sigh silence solitude Sorrento soul spirit spot stamped stand stood sublime Suetonius Tacitus Temple thee thine thou thought throne Tiberius tomb truth Vallombrosa Venetian Venice Virgil Vision Voice wert wild wreck
Pasajes populares
Página 475 - The intelligible forms of ancient poets, the fair humanities of old religion, the power, the beauty, and the majesty that had their haunts in dale, or piny mountain, or forest by slow stream, or pebbly spring, or chasms and wat'ry depths ; all these have vanished : they live no longer in the faith of reason...
Página 463 - So Moses, the servant of the Lord, died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the Lord. And he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over against Bethpeor ; but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day.
Página 495 - Nothing then was to be heard but the shrieks of women, the screams of children, and the cries of men ; some calling for their children, others for their parents, others for their husbands, and only distinguishing each other by their voices ; one lamenting his own fate...
Página 376 - Millions of spirits for his fault amerced Of heaven, and from eternal splendours flung For his revolt; yet faithful how they stood, Their glory withered : as when heaven's fire Hath scathed the forest oaks, or mountain pines, With singed top their stately growth though bare Stands on the blasted heath.
Página 378 - The earth is a point not only in respect of the heavens above us, but of that heavenly and celestial part within us. That mass of flesh that circumscribes me, limits not my mind. That surface that tells the heavens it hath an end, cannot persuade me I have any.
Página 387 - Thou shalt go upon the lion and the adder ; the young lion and the dragon shalt thou tread under thy feet.
Página 378 - For the world, I count it not an inn, but an hospital ; and a place not to live, but to die in. The world that I regard is myself; it is the microcosm of my own frame that I cast mine eye on; for the other, I use it but like my globe, and turn it round sometimes for my recreation.
Página 495 - ... but the shrieks of women, the screams of children, and the cries of men ; some calling for their children, others for their parents, others for their husbands, and only distinguishing each other by their voices ; one lamenting his own fate, another that of his family ; some wishing to die from the very fear of dying ; some lifting their hands to the gods ; but, the greater part imagining that the last and eternal night was come, which was to destroy the gods and the world together.
Página 378 - ... whilst I study to find how I am a microcosm or little world, I find myself something more than the great. There is surely a piece of divinity in us, something that was before the elements and owes no homage unto the sun.
Página 432 - At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound Rose like a steam of rich distill'd perfumes, And stole upon the air...