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Seite 233 - The roar of waters ! — from the headlong height Velino cleaves the wave-worn precipice; The fall of waters ! rapid as the light The flashing mass foams shaking the abyss ; The hell of waters ! where they howl and hiss, And boil in endless torture ; while the sweat Of their great agony, wrung out from this Their Phlegethon, curls round the rocks of jet That gird the gulf around, in pitiless horror set, LXX.
Seite 242 - Oh Rome ! my country ! city of the soul ! The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, Lone mother of dead empires ! and control In their shut breasts their petty misery. What are our woes and sufferance? Come and see The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way O'er steps of broken thrones and temples, Ye ! Whose agonies are evils of a day — A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay.
Seite 233 - And mounts in spray the skies, and thence again Returns in an unceasing shower, which round, With its unemptied cloud of gentle rain, Is an eternal April to the ground, Making it all one emerald : — how profound The gulf!
Seite 233 - Horribly beautiful ! but on the verge, From side to side, beneath the glittering morn, An iris sits, amidst the infernal surge, Like Hope upon a death-bed, and, unworn Its steady dyes, while all around is torn By the distracted waters, bears serene Its brilliant hues with all their beams unshorn: Resembling, 'mid the torture of the scene, Love watching Madness with unalterable mien.
Seite 62 - The shrill cicalas, people of the pine, Making their summer lives one ceaseless song, Were the sole echoes, save my steed's and mine, And vesper bells' that rose the boughs along...
Seite 100 - The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues Have I lik'd several women ; never any With so full soul, but some defect in her Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow'd, And put it to the foil: But you, O you, So perfect, and so peerless, are created Of every creature's best.
Seite 167 - ve spiccia fuor della selva un picciol fiumicello, 78 lo cui rossore ancor mi raccapriccia. Quale del Bulicame esce ruscello che parton poi tra lor le peccatrici, B i tal per la rena giù sen giva quello. Lo fondo suo ed ambo le pendici fatt'era 'n pietra, e' margini da lato; 84 per ch'io m'accorsi che '1 passo era lici.
Seite 28 - Qual pare a riguardar la Carisenda Sotto il chinato, quando un nuvol vada Sovr...
Seite 277 - Director-General of the Geological Survey of Great Britain and Ireland ; and JAMES NICOL, FRSE, FGS, Professor of Natural History in the University of Aberdeen. Constructed by ALEX. KEITH JOHNSTON, FRSE, &c., Geographer to the Queen, Author of the "Physical Atlas,