Nile Notes of a Howadji

الغلاف الأمامي
Harper & Brothers, 1851 - 320 من الصفحات
 

ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة

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الصفحة 232 - The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, Burn'd on the water ; the poop was beaten gold, Purple the sails, and so perfumed that The winds were love-sick with them, the oars were silver, Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made The water which they beat to follow faster, As amorous of their strokes.
الصفحة 47 - Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands. Curtsied when you have, and kiss'd The wild waves whist," Foot it featly" here and there, And, sweet sprites, the burden bear. Burden (dispersedly) . Hark, hark! Bow-woW. The watch-dogs bark ! Bow-woW. ART. Hark, hark ! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, " Cock-a-diddle-doW." FER. Where should this music be ? I' the air or the earth ? It sounds no more ; and, sure, it waits upon Some god o
الصفحة 232 - Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, And made their bends adornings : at the helm A seeming mermaid steers : the silken tackle Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, That yarely frame the office. From the barge A strange invisible perfume hits the sense Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast Her people out upon her ; and Antony, Enthroned i...
الصفحة 104 - Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes ; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies.
الصفحة 232 - O'er-picturing that Venus, where we see The fancy outwork nature: on each side her Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, And what they undid, did. Agr: O, rare for Antony! Eno: Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, So many mermaids, tended her i...
الصفحة 102 - And though nature be the mirror of our moods — we can yet sometimes escape ourselves — as we can sometimes forget all laws. " Go abroad and forget yourself," is good advice. The Prodigal was long and ruinously abroad before he came to himself. And poets celebrate the law unlimited, which circumstances constantly limit. You would fancy Thomson an early riser. Yet that placid poet, who rented the castle of indolence, and made it the House Beautiful, so tha't all who pass are fain to tarry, used...
الصفحة 6 - Moslem artisans home-returning from their work. To the mere Moslem observer, they were carpenters, masons, labourers, and tradesmen of all kinds. We passed many a meditating Cairene, to whom there was nothing but the monotony of an old story in that evening and in that road. But we saw all the pageantry of Oriental romance quietly donkeying into Cairo. I saw Fadladeen with a gorgeous turban and a long sash.
الصفحة 124 - ... dashing in regular measure against her movelessness, until suddenly the whole surface of her frame quivered in measure with the music. Her hands were raised, clapping the castanets, and she slowly turned upon herself, her right leg the pivot, marvellously convulsing all the muscles of her body. When she had completed the circuit of the spot on which she stood, she advanced slowly, all the muscles jerking in time to the music, and in solid, substantial spasms. It was a curious and wonderful gymnastic....
الصفحة 209 - the most extraordinary thing is what relates to the death of their kings. The priests, who superintend the worship of the Gods, and the ceremonies of religion, in Meroe/ enjoy such unlimited power, that, whenever they choose, they send a messenger to the king, ordering him to die, for that the gods had given this command, and no mortal could oppose their will, without being guilty of a crime. They also add other reasons, which would influence a man of weak mind, accustomed to give way to old custom...
الصفحة 7 - Babel jargon. Yet had erudite Mr. Lane accompanied us, Mr. Lane, the eastern Englishman, who has given us so many golden glimpses into the silence and mystery of oriental life, like a good genius re vealing to ardent lovers the very hallowed heart of the hareem, we should have understood those cries.

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