Travelling sketches in the north of Italy, the Tyrol, and on the Rhine

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Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, and Green, 1832 - 256 páginas
 

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Página 11 - With the silent Bushboy alone by my side, Away, away, in the wilderness vast Where the white man's foot hath never passed, And the quivered Coranna or Bechuan Hath rarely crossed with his roving clan, — A region of emptiness, howling and drear, Which man hath abandoned from famine and fear...
Página 12 - Is the pilgrim's fare by the salt lake's brink : A region of drought, where no river glides, Nor rippling brook with osiered sides ; Where sedgy pool, nor bubbling fount, Nor tree, nor cloud, nor misty mount, Appears to refresh the aching eye ; But the barren earth, and the burning sky, And the blank horizon, round and round, Spread — void of living sight or sound.
Página 110 - Francesco's heart bled while he thought of the sufferings of the sick and delicate girl on such a night, in such a place ; and his blows fell desperately on the stubborn rock. He was now at a little distance from the spot where she sat, and was just about to beg her to bring the light nearer, when she spoke again. " Make haste — make haste !" she said, " the time is almost come — I shall be wanted — I am wanted — I can stay no longer — farewell!
Página 96 - ... confusion with which he turned away his head ; and, what perhaps was as valuable as either even to the gentle Lelia, there was admiration, deep and devout, in those brilliant eyes that had quailed beneath hers. The youth was as beautiful as a dream ; and his voice ! — it was so clear, and yet so soft — so powerful, yet so melodious ! It haunted her ear like a prediction. It was a week before she again saw this Apollo of her girlish imagination. It seemed as if in the interval they had had...
Página 113 - She leant her back against the rock ; one hand was pressed upon her heart, like a person who shrinks with cold; and in the other she held the lamp, the flame of which had expired in the socket. Francesco threw himself on his knees at one side, and the old man at the other, while a light, as strong as day, was shed by the torches upon the spot. She was dead — dead — stone dead ! After a time, the childless old man went to seek out the object of his daughter's love ; but Francesco was never seen...
Página 94 - ... compass. The only fence of 'the garden at this place was a belt of shrubs, which enriched the border of the deep ravine it overlooked. At the bottom of this ravine flowed the river, rapid and yet sullen ; and beyond, scarcely distant two hundred yards, a range of precipitous cliffs shut in the horizon. The wild and desolate aspect of the scene was overshadowed and controlled, as it were, by the stern grandeur of these ramparts of nature ; and the whole contributed to form such a picture as artists...
Página 90 - Switzerland at one time ran through the Valley of Anzasca; and it was once my fortune to be detained all night at a cottage in one of its wildest defiles, by a storm which rendered my horses ungovernable. While leaning upon a bench, and looking with drowsy curiosity towards the window — for there was no bed except my host's, of which I did not choose to deprive him — I saw a small faint light among the rocks in the distance. I at first conceived that it might proceed from a cottage-window ; but,...
Página 107 - ... on fortune and casualty, Lelia betook herself to the altars and gods of her people ! Saints and martyrs were by turns invoked ; vows were offered up, and pilgrimages and religious watchings performed. Then came dreams and prodigies into play, and omens, and auguries. Sortes were wrested from the pages of Dante, and warnings and commands translated from the mystic writings of the sky — " The stars, which are the poetry of heaven.
Página 11 - Hath rarely crossed with his roving clan : A region of emptiness, howling and drear, Which Man hath abandoned from famine and fear ; Which the snake and the lizard inhabit alone, With the twilight bat from the yawning stone ; Where grass, nor herb, nor shrub takes root, Save poisonous thorns that pierce the foot...
Página 100 - Lelia fell on her father's neck, and sobbed aloud. So long and bitter was her sobbing that the formality of the party was broken, and the circle narrowed anxiously around her. When at last she raised her head, it was seen that her cheeks were dry, and her face as white as the marble of Cordaglia. A murmur of compassion ran through the bystanders ; and the words "poor thing! — still so delicate! — old hysterics!

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