In Venetia, Parma, the Emilia, the Marche, and northern Tuscany

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Daldy, Isbister & Company, 1876
 

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Seite 3 - I STOOD in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs, A palace and a prison on each hand ; I saw from out the wave her structures rise As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : A thousand years their cloudy wings expand Around me, and a dying Glory smiles O'er the far times, when many a subject land Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles, Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles...
Seite 28 - WE praise thee, O God; we acknowledge thee to be the Lord. All the earth doth worship thee, the Father everlasting.
Seite 139 - Of Venice did not fall below her birth, Venice, the eldest child of liberty. She was a maiden city, bright and free ; No guile seduced, no force could violate ; And, when she took unto herself a mate, She must espouse the everlasting sea. And what if she had seen those glories fade, Those titles vanish, and that strength decay ; Yet shall some tribute of regret be paid When her long life hath reached its final day : Men are we, and must grieve when even the shade Of that which once was great is passed...
Seite 15 - their bluest veins to kiss " — the shadow, as it steals back from them, revealing line after line of azure undulation, as a receding tide leaves the waved sand; their capitals rich with interwoven tracery, rooted knots of herbage, and drifting leaves of acanthus and vine, and mystical signs, all beginning and ending in the Cross; and above them, in the broad archivolts, a continuous chain of language and of life — angels, and the signs of heaven and the...
Seite 15 - ... golden ground through the leaves beside them, interrupted and dim, like the morning light as it faded back among the branches of Eden, when first its gates were angel-guarded long ago. "And round the walls of the porches there are set pillars of variegated stones, jasper and porphyry, and deep-green serpentine spotted with flakes of snow, and marbles that half refuse and half yield to the sunshine, Cleopatra-like, 'their bluest veins to kiss...
Seite 4 - In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more, And silent rows the songless gondolier; Her palaces are crumbling to the shore, And music meets not always now the ear: Those days are gone - but Beauty still is here.
Seite 471 - There is no dew on the dry grass to-night, Nor damp within the shadow of the trees ; The wind is intermitting, dry, and light; And in the inconstant motion of the breeze The dust and straws are driven up and down, And whirled about the pavement of the town Within the surface of the fleeting river The wrinkled image of the city lay, Immovably unquiet, and for ever It trembles, but it never fades away ; Go to the [ ] You, being changed, will find it then as now.
Seite 24 - What else there is of light is from torches, or silver lamps, burning ceaselessly in the recesses of the chapels; the roof sheeted with gold, and the polished walls covered with alabaster, give back at every curve and angle some feeble gleaming to the flames...
Seite 68 - Signior Antonio, many a time and oft In the Rialto you have rated me About my moneys and my usances : Still have I borne it with a patient shrug ; For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, And all for use of that which is mine own.
Seite 83 - Enter ye in at the strait gate : for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat : because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it...

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