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age to age Amalfi ancient Arlecchino beauty Boccaccio Bologna breathed Bucentaur called church Cimabue City cliff clouds comes cried darkness dead death delight Doge door dream drew dusk till dawn earth entered ere long eyes father fear fell fled Florence foot gates gazed Genoa glimmering gold golden vales Gondolier gone grove hadst hand heard heart Heaven holy hour hung Italy length light lived look lost Marcolini Monte Cassino Naples night noblest numbered o'er once Padua Paestum palaces passed Petrarch pleasure Rome rose round sacred sail seen sigh silent Singing sitting sleep smile song soon soul splendour stir stood stranger sung temple thee thine things thou art thou hast thro Titian tomb tower turned Twas twelve tables Venetian Venice verse Virgil voice walls wander wave Whence wild young youth
Página 94 - Scripture-stories from the life of Christ ; A chest that came from Venice, and had held The ducal robes of some old ancestor. That by the way — it may be true or false — But don't forget the picture ; and thou wilt not, When thou hast heard the tale they told me there. She was an only child ; from infancy The joy, the pride of an indulgent sire.
Página 95 - That mouldering chest was noticed ; and 'twas said By one as young, as thoughtless as Ginevra, " Why not remove it from its lurking-place ?" 'Twas done as soon as said ; but on the way It burst, it fell ; and lo ! a skeleton With here and there a pearl, an emerald-stone, A golden clasp, clasping a shred of gold.
Página 255 - 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'.
Página 105 - ... darkness, mingling each with each ; Both and yet neither. There, from age to age, Two Ghosts are sitting on their sepulchres. That is the Duke LORENZO. Mark him well.* He meditates, his head upon his hand. What from beneath his helm-like bonnet scowls? Is it a face, or but an eyeless skull ? "Tis lost in shade ; yet, like the basilisk, It fascinates, and is intolerable.
Página 95 - Orsini lived ; and long mightst thou have seen An old man wandering as in quest of something, Something he could not find — he knew not what.
Página 94 - Her pranks the favourite theme of every tongue. But now the day was come, the day, the hour ; Now, frowning, smiling, for the hundredth time, The nurse, that ancient lady, preached decorum ; And, in the lustre of her youth, she gave Her hand, with her heart in it, to FRANCESCO.
Página 95 - Tis but to make a trial of our love !" And filled his glass to all ; but his hand shook, And soon from guest to guest the panic spread. 'Twas but that instant she had left Francesco, Laughing and looking back and flying still, Her ivory tooth imprinted on his finger. But now, alas, she was not to be found ; Nor from that hour could...
Página 115 - Among the Great of every age and clime, A numerous court, turning to whom he pleased, Questioning each why he did this or that, And learning how to overcome the fear Of poverty and death...
Página 207 - They stand between the mountains and the sea ; Awful memorials, but of whom we know not ! The seaman, passing, gazes from the deck. The buffalo-driver, in his shaggy cloak, Points to the work of magic and moves on.
Página 93 - Tis of a lady in her earliest youth, The very last of that illustrious race, Done by Zampieri — but by whom I care not. He who observes it, ere he passes on, Gazes his fill, and comes and comes again, That he may call it up when far away. She sits, inclining forward as to speak, Her lips half open, and her finger up, As though she said,