Two Months Abroad: Thirty-two Letters Written for the Binghamton Republican-Times in the Winter of 1877-781878 - 277 psl. |
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Rezultatai 1–5 iš 32
9 psl.
... to the sea - might it not destroy a thousand ships , put out the lights of a thousand lives and still roll on through the ages ? Who would rise up to judge it ? To be on deck at night is weird and impres- Two MONTHS ABROAD . 9.
... to the sea - might it not destroy a thousand ships , put out the lights of a thousand lives and still roll on through the ages ? Who would rise up to judge it ? To be on deck at night is weird and impres- Two MONTHS ABROAD . 9.
10 psl.
... light from hazy clouds that climbed towards the zenith , old Orion and Cassiopeia alone being visible in clear lustre . The en- gine toiled away at its wondrous work and its throbbings moved very fibre in the vessel's frame . The ...
... light from hazy clouds that climbed towards the zenith , old Orion and Cassiopeia alone being visible in clear lustre . The en- gine toiled away at its wondrous work and its throbbings moved very fibre in the vessel's frame . The ...
11 psl.
... light shone from the Head of Old King Sail . In the distance a disabled steamer from New York was in tow of an out- ward - bound steamer . All day the Irish shore was in view . It was a novelty to see the steer- age passengers land at ...
... light shone from the Head of Old King Sail . In the distance a disabled steamer from New York was in tow of an out- ward - bound steamer . All day the Irish shore was in view . It was a novelty to see the steer- age passengers land at ...
17 psl.
... light , through a wire window , thrown upon an old portrait of Queen Anne , lights up the fair face of that old sovereign of England most brilliantly . Coventry was the third largest city of the kingdom after Lon- don in the fourteenth ...
... light , through a wire window , thrown upon an old portrait of Queen Anne , lights up the fair face of that old sovereign of England most brilliantly . Coventry was the third largest city of the kingdom after Lon- don in the fourteenth ...
21 psl.
... light of day is shed upon the walls and pictures and trappings of ancient splendor . I loved to look upon the grand , gray old walls from the banks of the peaceful Avon on that beautiful summer day . One is tempted here to believe that ...
... light of day is shed upon the walls and pictures and trappings of ancient splendor . I loved to look upon the grand , gray old walls from the banks of the peaceful Avon on that beautiful summer day . One is tempted here to believe that ...
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Pagrindiniai terminai ir frazės
aisles ancient arcades arch architecture artists Baptistery beautiful Bologna bronze building built buried Cæsars Capitoline Hill castle Cathedral century chapel Christian church Cloaca Maxima Colosseum columns corner covered crowded dome doorway earth Emperor England enter Europe feet high Ferrara Florence Florentines Forum Frederick Barbarossa French frescoes gallery Gothic Gothic art grass grow hall height Hill houses Hugomont Italian Italy Julius Julius Cæsar King LETTER light lived lofty look Louis marble Medicis ments Michael Angelo miles modern monuments mosaic Napoleon nearly noble noblest Padua painted palace Palatine Hill Pantheon Paris passed Paul Veronese pavement Peter's Pisa Pope Raphael remains rich Roman Rome ruins scene sculpture seen Septimus Severus side soul spire square stands statues stone Strasbourg streets temple Tiber tion Titian to-day tomb towers town trees Venice walk walls
Populiarios ištraukos
11 psl. - Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form; yet, on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart. He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright.
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.
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.
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.
119 psl. - Tarpeian? fittest goal of Treason's race, The promontory whence the Traitor's leap Cured all ambition. Did the conquerors heap Their spoils here? Yes; and in yon field below, A thousand years of silenced factions sleep — The Forum, where the immortal accents glow, And still the eloquent air breathes— burns with Cicero ! CXIII.
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.
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 watchdog bay'd beyond the Tiber ; and More near from out the Caesars...
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.
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.
3 psl. - I have no expectation that any man will read history aright, who thinks that what was done in a remote age, by men whose names have resounded far, has any deeper sense than what he is doing today.