Italian pictures drawn with pen and pencil, by the author of 'Spanish pictures'. By S. Manning, المجلد 252

الغلاف الأمامي
 

ما يقوله الناس - كتابة مراجعة

لم نعثر على أي مراجعات في الأماكن المعتادة.

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مقاطع مشهورة

الصفحة 39 - I see before me the gladiator lie : He leans upon his hand ; his manly brow Consents to death, but conquers agony, And his drooped head sinks gradually low ; And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one, Like the first of a thunder-shower ; and now The arena swims around him ; he is gone, Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.
الصفحة 35 - Alas, the lofty city! and alas, The trebly hundred triumphs! and the day When Brutus made the dagger's edge surpass The conqueror's sword in bearing fame away! Alas for Tully's voice, and Virgil's lay, And Livy's pictured page! But these shall be Her resurrection; all beside — decay. Alas, for Earth, for never shall we see That brightness in her eye she bore when Rome was free!
الصفحة 31 - And from thence, when the brethren heard of us, they came to meet us as far as Appii Forum, and the Three Taverns ; whom when Paul saw, he thanked God, and took courage.
الصفحة 48 - At my first answer no man stood with me, but all men forsook me : I pray God that it may not be laid to their charge.
الصفحة 31 - Now thanks be unto God, who always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge by us in every place.
الصفحة 189 - Rising with her tiara of proud towers At airy distance, with majestic motion, A ruler of the waters and their powers: And such she was; — her daughters had their dowers From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East Pour'd in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
الصفحة 52 - Simple, erect, severe, austere, sublime — Shrine of all saints and temple of all gods, From Jove to Jesus — spared and blest by time; Looking tranquillity, while falls or nods Arch, empire, each thing round thee, and man plods His way through thorns to ashes — glorious dome! Shalt thou not last? Time's scythe and tyrants...
الصفحة 34 - The Niobe of nations, — there she stands, Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; An empty urn within her withered hands, Whose holy dust was scattered long ago ; The Scipios...
الصفحة 34 - Scipios' tomb contains no ashes now; The very sepulchres lie tenantless Of their heroic dwellers: dost thou flow, Old Tiber! through a marble wilderness? Rise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress.
الصفحة 38 - Circus' genial laws, And the Imperial pleasure ! Wherefore not ? What matters where we fall to fill the maws Of worms — on battle-plains or listed spot ! Both are but theatres where the chief actors rot.

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