The Works of Lord Byron: With His Letters and Journals, and His Life, Volumen12J. Murray, 1832 |
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Página 4
... death by the enraged Lanciotto . The interest of this pathetic narrative is much increased , when it is recollected that the father of this unfortunate lady was the beloved friend and generous protector of Dante during his latter days ...
... death by the enraged Lanciotto . The interest of this pathetic narrative is much increased , when it is recollected that the father of this unfortunate lady was the beloved friend and generous protector of Dante during his latter days ...
Página 5
... death conducted us along , ( 1 ) Ravenna . ( 2 ) [ Among Lord Byron's unpublished letters we find the following :. " Varied readings of the translation from Dante . Seized him for the fair person , which in its Bloom was ta'en from me ...
... death conducted us along , ( 1 ) Ravenna . ( 2 ) [ Among Lord Byron's unpublished letters we find the following :. " Varied readings of the translation from Dante . Seized him for the fair person , which in its Bloom was ta'en from me ...
Página 6
... death robbed him of her beauty . She confesses that she loved , because she was beloved , - that charm had deluded her ; and she declares , with transport , that joy had not abandoned her even in hell- 66 piacer sì forte , Che , come ...
... death robbed him of her beauty . She confesses that she loved , because she was beloved , - that charm had deluded her ; and she declares , with transport , that joy had not abandoned her even in hell- 66 piacer sì forte , Che , come ...
Página 7
... death ; but is so overawed by pity , that he sinks into a swoon . Nor is this to be considered as merely a poetical exaggeration . The poet had pro- bably known her when a girl , blooming in innocence and beauty under the paternal roof ...
... death ; but is so overawed by pity , that he sinks into a swoon . Nor is this to be considered as merely a poetical exaggeration . The poet had pro- bably known her when a girl , blooming in innocence and beauty under the paternal roof ...
Página 10
... death : Caina waits The soul , who spilt our life . ' Such were their words ; At hearing which downward I bent my looks , And held them there so long , that the Bard cried : ' What art thou pondering ? ' I in answer thus : ' Alas ! by ...
... death : Caina waits The soul , who spilt our life . ' Such were their words ; At hearing which downward I bent my looks , And held them there so long , that the Bard cried : ' What art thou pondering ? ' I in answer thus : ' Alas ! by ...
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Términos y frases comunes
Angiolina aught Avogadori Bertram blood Bluem cause chief conspirators Council Council of Ten death Doge Doge of Venice ducal Duke duty earth English evil eyes father feelings Francesca FRANCESCA OF RIMINI Genoese hand hath head hear heart Heaven honour hour insult ISRAEL BERTUCCIO King knew Lady Blueb less letter Lioni lived Lord Byron Marino Faliero Michael Michel Steno ne'er never noble o'er offence opinions palace passion patrician person Philip Calendaro poem poet prince punishment Ravenna ROBERT SOUTHEY Saint Mark's Saint Peter Satan Satanic School Scamp scene senate sentence shame Signor soul Southey Southey's sovereign speak spirit sword thee thine things thought tragedy traitors treason Treviso true turn'd twas unto Venetian Venice Vision of Judgment Wat Tyler words wretch writings written youth
Pasajes populares
Página 209 - While round the armed bands Did clap their bloody hands ; He nothing common did, or mean, Upon that memorable scene, But with his keener eye The axe's edge did try ; Nor called the gods with vulgar spite To vindicate his helpless right, But bowed his comely head Down, as upon a bed.
Página 251 - The angels all were singing out of tune, And hoarse with having little else to do, Excepting to wind up the sun and moon, Or curb a runaway young star or two, Or wild colt of a comet, which too soon Broke out of bounds o'er the ethereal blue, Splitting some planet with its playful tail, As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale.
Página 8 - 1 viso; Ma solo un punto fu quel che ci vinse. Quando leggemmo il disiato riso Esser baciato da cotanto amante , Questi , che mai da me non fia diviso , La bocca mi baciò tutto tremante. Galeotto fu il libro, e chi lo scrisse; Quel giorno più non vi leggemmo avante.
Página 15 - Sweet hour of twilight! — in the solitude Of the pine forest, and the silent shore Which bounds Ravenna's immemorial wood, Rooted where once the Adrian wave flow'd o'er, To where the last Caesarean fortress stood, Evergreen forest! which Boccaccio's lore And Dryden's lay made haunted ground...
Página 19 - OH, talk not to me of a name great in story ; The days of our youth are the days of our glory ; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty.
Página 206 - Who kindlest and who quenchest suns ! — Attest ' I am not innocent, — but, are these guiltless ? I perish, but not unavenged ; far ages Float up from the abyss of time to be, And show these eyes, before they close, the doom Of this proud city ; and I leave my curse On her and hers forever...
Página 246 - She whipped two female prentices to death. And hid them in the coal-hole ; for her mind Shaped strictest plans of discipline. Sage schemes ! Such as Lycurgus taught, when at the shrine Of the Orthyan goddess he bade flog The little Spartans • such as erst chastised Our Milton when at college. For this act Did Brownrigg swing. Harsh laws ! But time shall come, When France shall reign, and laws be all repealed.
Página 11 - Alone we were, and no Suspicion near us. Oft-times by that reading Our eyes were drawn together, and the hue Fled from our alter'd cheek.
Página 39 - Boats," and "Waggons !" Oh ! ye shades Of Pope and Dryden, are we come to this ? That trash of such sort not alone evades Contempt, but from the bathos vast abyss Floats scumlike uppermost, and these Jack Cades Of sense and song above your graves may hiss — The "little boatman" and his "Peter Bell" Can sneer at him who drew "Achitophel !" T
Página 295 - He first sank to the bottom — like his works, But soon rose to the surface — like himself...