Two Months Abroad: Thirty-two Letters1878 - 280 psl. |
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9 psl.
... hour , and some one suggested that we get out and walk ; meanwhile the sea was con- tinually washed on deck . At such a time it was delightful to stand before a wind that was almost strong enough to carry one away . There was a majesty ...
... hour , and some one suggested that we get out and walk ; meanwhile the sea was con- tinually washed on deck . At such a time it was delightful to stand before a wind that was almost strong enough to carry one away . There was a majesty ...
13 psl.
... Of this wondrous village we must write some other time and be- fore the enthusiasm of a first impression loses its warmth . The other towns must engage him to - night . Chester , about a half hour's ride from Liver- pool.
... Of this wondrous village we must write some other time and be- fore the enthusiasm of a first impression loses its warmth . The other towns must engage him to - night . Chester , about a half hour's ride from Liver- pool.
14 psl.
Thirty-two Letters Francis Whiting Halsey. Chester , about a half hour's ride from Liver- pool , is one of the oldest cities in the King- dom . It was founded by the Romans , was demolished in 607 and rebuilt by a daughter of Alfred the ...
Thirty-two Letters Francis Whiting Halsey. Chester , about a half hour's ride from Liver- pool , is one of the oldest cities in the King- dom . It was founded by the Romans , was demolished in 607 and rebuilt by a daughter of Alfred the ...
31 psl.
... hour . Farewell , O little Stratford that dwellest by the Avon's side . The world had not known thee but for the mighty soul which here drew its first breath of life . But now those shall never pass from the lips and the hearts of men ...
... hour . Farewell , O little Stratford that dwellest by the Avon's side . The world had not known thee but for the mighty soul which here drew its first breath of life . But now those shall never pass from the lips and the hearts of men ...
75 psl.
... hour or less they put in a fresh foot warmer , and at every station the name is called out as the train passes into the depot ; it is not sounded in your ear from the open door and followed by a slam . he These are some of the features ...
... hour or less they put in a fresh foot warmer , and at every station the name is called out as the train passes into the depot ; it is not sounded in your ear from the open door and followed by a slam . he These are some of the features ...
Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
ancient appear arches beautiful building built buried called castle Cathedral century chapel Christian church columns completed corner covered cross distance dome earth England enter Europe extends feel feet figures Florence Forum four French front gallery given Gothic Gothic art ground grow half hall hand height Hill houses human hundred interest Italy King known land LETTER light lived lofty London look marble ments Michael miles mind monuments nearly never noble once painted palace Paris passed Pope present reached remains rest rich rise Roman Rome ruins says scene seems seen side square stands statues stone streets structure temple tomb towers town trees Venice walk walls whole wide
Populiarios ištraukos
70 psl. - It is my wish that my ashes may repose on the banks of the Seine, in the midst of the French people, whom I have loved so well.
107 psl. - In fragments, choked up vaults, and frescos steep'd In subterranean damps, where the owl peep'd, Deeming it midnight : Temples, baths or halls? Pronounce who can ; for all that learning reap'd From her research hath been, that these are walls Behold the Imperial Mount ! 'tis thus the mighty falls.
147 psl. - There is a stern round tower of other days, ^ Firm as a fortress, with its fence of stone, Such as an army's baffled strength delays, Standing with half its battlements alone, And with two thousand years of ivy grown, The garland of eternity, where wave The green leaves over all by time o'erthrown ; What was this tower of strength ? within its cave What treasure lay so lock'd, so hid ? A woman's grave.
240 psl. - The hand that rounded Peter's dome And groined the aisles of Christian Rome Wrought in a sad sincerity; Himself from God he could not free; He builded better than he knew; The conscious stone to beauty grew.
115 psl. - twere anew, the gaps of centuries ; Leaving that beautiful which still was so, And making that which was not, till the place Became religion, and the heart ran o'er With silent worship of the great of old ! The dead, but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule Our spirits from their urns.
277 psl. - Ye ! who have traced the Pilgrim to the scene Which is his last, if in your memories dwell A thought which once was his, if on ye swell A single recollection, not in vain He wore his sandal-shoon and scallop-shell; Farewell ! with him alone may rest the pain, If such there were with you, the moral of his strain.
235 psl. - Come unto me, all ye that labor, and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.
8 psl. - What front can we make against these unavoidable, victorious, maleficent forces? What can I do against the influence of Race, in my history? What can I do against hereditary and constitutional habits; against scrofula, lymph, impotence? against climate, against barbarism, in my country? I can reason down or deny everything, except this perpetual Belly: feed he must and will, and I cannot make him respectable.
114 psl. - Midst the chief relics of almighty Rome; The trees which grew along the broken arches Waved dark in the blue midnight, and the stars Shone through the rents of ruin ; from afar The watch-dog bayed beyond the Tiber : and, More near, from out the Caesars...
71 psl. - Farewell to thee, France ! but when Liberty rallies Once more in thy regions, remember me then. The violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys ; Though wither'd, thy tear will unfold it again. Yet, yet, I may baffle the hosts that surround us, And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice There are links which must break in the chain that has bound us, Then turn thee and call on the Chief of thy choice ! LAMENT OF TASSO.